


Vaguely downwards

by luchifer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a bit of a bastard, Aziraphale will fuck you up, Beelz is concerned, Beelzebub has no time for this, Beelzebub is ambitious, Crowley & Michael are chill, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley didn't deserve this shit, Crowley is a sad snake, Crowley wine is not the answer, Gabriel attempts to get a redemption arc, Gabriel can you not?, Gen, Hastur Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Heaven v hell, How Do I Tag, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Michael is solid, No beta we fall like Crowley, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, The Fall (Good Omens), The Flaming Sword Returns, These two idiots would die for each other, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wing Grooming, or attempts anyway, pacifist Crowley is straight up not having a good time, random human has words, terrible attempts to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 47,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luchifer/pseuds/luchifer
Summary: Quick insomnia induced ficlet about my head cannon for Crowley's fall. Ft rude Gabriel, unsure Michael and Lucifer being a bit of a twunt.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so insomnia kicked my arse and instead of being reasonable I decided to do something about the Crowley was Raphael theory the fandom has sold me on. First fanfic so shout if there's any errors.  
> (also written on my phone and I couldn't work out how to footnote. Sorry in advance)

It had started, as most things do for Aziraphale and Crowley, with a poorly informed decision. Namely, Crowley ending up getting injured whilst interfering with humans. (Lightly stabbed he insisted, not that Aziraphale was listening to him. Not whilst he was slumped on the floor against his usual couch, pressing his hands to the wound to stem the bleeding.) That in itself wasn't the big issue though; that was when Aziraphale used a healing miracle on Crowley whilst Archangels were in the area. Next thing they knew Gabriel had roughly hauled Aziraphale away from Crowley, his grip bruisingly tight, and Michael had wasted no time drawing their sword, pressing the tip to Crowley's throat and effectively pinning him where he was. Crowley let out a low hiss and stayed on the floor, slowly raising his still bloody hands in surrender, deciding against getting confrontational until he knew what they wanted. Or at least playing nice until he knew it wouldn't come back to bite Aziraphale in the arse. Aziraphale seemed to be thinking along the same lines, immediately cooperating when Michael's sword came into play. It would hardly do to get his Demon discorporated right after healing him, especially when neither of them were sure they'd be issued new corporations.  
"Care to explain yourself Aziraphale?“ Gabriel flashed one of his unnervingly fake smiles, motioning to Crowley who looked thoroughly less than impressed. (Outright hateful actually, his shades having been abandoned at some point between the whole human kerfuffle and Michael's sword getting involved, no longer concealing his expression. Gabriel just decided to ignore that and continue anyway though, because who could hate him?) "I highly doubt She would be impressed to learn you were using your grace to heal one of the Fallen, boyfriend or not." Choosing to ignore the boyfriend comment, Crowley huffed and butt in before Gabriel decided it was time to continue talking down to Aziraphale.   
"Fuck off Gabe, you haven't spoken for Her since the whole Mary cock-up. Even Downstairs knows that you pompousss-" Crowley cut himself off with a wince as Michael dug the tip of their sword in slightly, trying to ignore the Holy burn in favour of glaring up at them. Gabriel tutted, releasing Aziraphale and dusting his hands off, looking disdainfully at Crowley.   
"I'd rather appreciate it if you shut up unless you were spoken to, Serpent. We're not here for you." Fuming at the sight of a holy blade digging into Crowley's skin Aziraphale stepped in as soon as he was released, carefully tilting the blade away from Crowley's throat. Michael, in shock at the sheer ballsiness of it, let him. (Much like they'd just unthinkingly miracled up a towel for Aziraphale-as-Crowley during the trial in Hell. Apparently they didn't know what to make of the sheer unpredictability of these two at all and wasn't that a thought to deal with later. Maybe. Or they could just go with good old fashioned repression, that had never failed them before.)   
"And I'd rather appreciate an explanation for why you're here Gabriel. I thought after you kindly ordered me into hell fire we had an understanding that we would leave each other alone." Clearly unsettled at the tone in Aziraphale's voice, (which honestly would have thrilled Crowley at any other time, seeing his angel stand up for himself, but he was busy trying to soothe the burn from Michael's blade and was somewhat distracted by the whole Holy Blade thing to enjoy it properly) Gabriel paused a moment looking to Michael who just shrugged and put their sword away. Unused to people answering back to him, but not about to let it stop him, Gabriel continued on.   
"Well sunshine, after the stunts you both pulled during your trials, we were going to ignore you, however there's been talk amongst the lower ranks about what Good entails" Gabriel paused, looking vaguely disgusted at the concept. (Which he absolutely was, who would even question such a thing? Good was well… Good, no amount of discussion would change that.) "Which would be fine I suppose, were there not sympathisers who think you and your… pet snake made the right call. So between us we came up with the bright idea of using you as an example."  
Immediately distrustful, Crowley slithered up from his position on the floor, protectively standing between Aziraphale and the Archangels.   
"And what exactly would that entail then? Because if you think you're hurting the angel any more then you can piss off."   
Gabriel's answering smile immediately worried Aziraphale, that wasn't a good smile, that was Gabriel's infamous 'I'm about to say something that'll ruin your day (or sometimes longer, but who's counting when you're immortal beings who've had rather a lot of days?) smile.   
"We're not going to do anything Serpent. You are. How about you share what Aziraphale has in store if we decide to make him Fall?" he asked, clapping Crowley on the shoulder and spinning him to face Aziraphale with a grossly unnerving smile, like this was an absolutely wonderful idea. "After all, we only saw the start, but you survived the whole thing. Who better to fill us all in?" Crowley stalled, trying to maintain a neutral expression (or something close, he'd been looking rather pissed off since Gabriel started talking. And touching. When Gabriel did anything really. At least with Michael you knew where you stood, none of this fake niceness and cheer rubbish that Gabriel had perfected over the years to Crowley's disgust.) and not let the Archangels know he was absolutely not at all okay with the thought of talking about the Fall, especially in front of Aziraphale. He didn't like bringing up their differences at the best of times and the Fall was responsible for the majority of those differences. (Potentially not all, Crowley was nothing if not mildly self aware, but the whole Fallen and Unfallen? Pretty big difference.) He'd done a pretty decent job of it, neither Archangel had noticed, but the moment of genuine fear that flashed across his face at the mention of the Fall broke Aziraphale's heart.   
"How about you go fuck yourself?" he asked, trying to feign nonchalance, distract Gabriel, anything to buy himself more time to think. He couldn't let Aziraphale Fall, he wouldn't, and this pretentious twat in his god-awful suit wasn't about to change that. Gabriel just looked at him blankly before deciding whatever that meant, coming from a mouthy demon, he probably didn't want to know and just placed his other hand on Crowley's free shoulder, unceremoniously forcing him to kneel before Aziraphale, cheerfully offering him one more chance to cooperate. Crowley got as far as telling him to suck it before Gabriel blindsided him with his Grace, using a miracle to project Crowley's memories of the Fall to the room. Flinching back, Gabriel let go of Crowley like he had been burned; the memories of plunging into the pits of sulphur and hell fire being projected strongly enough to almost be palpable. The stench of sulphur, of burnt flesh, of everything the depths of Hell had to offer, flooded the bookshop and had Aziraphale fighting back the urge to gag, and the Archangels didn't look like they were faring much better. That combined with the dizzyingly overwhelming feelings of betrayal, panic and fear being broadcast to them through the projection were too much, even before you took the excruciating pain into account. Michael looked vaguely nauseous, clapping their hand over their mouth. Gabriel grit his teeth, screwing his eyes shut to try and block it out.   
"This isn't half bad in comparison to the actual thing. You fuck up on your miracle or something Gabe?" Crowley managed a weak laugh at the pair, even whilst wrapping his arms around himself, his claws digging into his upper arms hard enough to draw blood. Aziraphale, who had nearly been in tears from the onslaught of sensations and the thought of Crowley having to endure this, noticed this with a start and promptly dropped to his knees, gently pulling his hands away and holding Crowley to his chest. Hesitantly Crowley accepted it, opting to instead grip the lapels of Aziraphale's jacket, and burying his face in his chest. Michael stared, confused once the initial shock of well, everything, about the scene before them had worn off. (They mean really, the combination of an angel holding a demon protectively whilst the demon clung to him, the sensation of having someone else's feelings thrust upon you, the scene of the sulphur pits; the entire scenario was rather bizarre. Gabriel stood there looking as baffled and pained as they felt didn't help much either)   
"Gabriel stop. This isn't right" Aziraphale could have kissed them out of joy, mistaking it for mercy, before realising Michael couldn't care less for Crowley, following their gaze to the projection Gabriel was still forcing from him. It wasn't the indignity or cruel treatment that wasn't right to Michael, clearly. (Aziraphale would have liked to say that he was shocked but considering…. Pretty much everything that had happened during the whole Apoca-nope and the trials he really wasn't. In truth a fair bit of Heaven's behaviour before all of that hadn't helped either.) The scene before them was flickery, and kept cutting between the same few bits, not unlike an old computer glitching. "... The Serpent is hiding something." Aziraphale could have punched the look of contempt off the Archangels' faces if he weren't so busy trying to hold Crowley upright and not dwell on the way he was shaking in his arms. (If he didn't know better he'd say Crowley was trying not to sob into his chest, but that was a thought he wasn't going to entertain right then. He wasn't sure if demons were even able to cry, and now really wasn't the time he wanted to find out.)   
"I'd commend his attempts to spare you the gory details if it weren't so pointless" Gabriel commented, running his hand over Crowley's hair in a mocking imitation of affection whilst he poured more of his Grace into making the Demon 'talk'. (Or unwillingly have his memories played out to the room, it was about the same if you asked Gabriel. Not that anyone was, or likely to ask his opinion on anything else Demon related for that matter given that he was somewhat biased and a bit of a prick.) Aziraphale went to slap his hand away before freezing, watching the projections flicker and change to images of Upstairs. With the change of scenery came a thankful change of the sensations that had been bombarding them, the scent of sulphur replaced by the clean, neutral scent of Heaven and the pain was gone. Unnervingly the panic and betrayal hadn't, only lessened. Even more so when he recognised that the scene was specifically Upstairs during the outbreak of the war. Gabriel and Michael looked just as surprised as Aziraphale did at the sudden change and clarity of the memories, transporting them all to Heaven, following Crowley as he dashed down the hallways, throwing doors open, frantically looking for something.   
"Luci! Luci where are you!?" memory Crowley called out, practically skidding round the corner and nearly colliding with said angel, grabbing at their shoulders. Lucifer merely looked amused, steadying him and brushing his wild red curls out of his face.   
"Really Raphael, rushing around like that. What's going on?" (Aziraphale, staring in awe at the projection, specifically at Raphael, was distantly aware of Gabriel loudly asking what the fuck, but couldn't draw his eyes away from the vision of Crowley in Heaven for long enough to see the Archangels shaken expressions. He was however incredibly aware that now they weren't thinking of the Pits that Crowley had calmed down considerably in his arms, loosening his grip on his poor jacket, but he wasn't about to let him go just yet. Just in case, you know?)   
"Is it true?" Immediately Lucifer's expression changed, dragging him aside and growling at him, demanding to know who he's been talking to. Raphael brushed him off, standing his ground and demanding the truth again. This time instead of deflecting Lucifer slammed him against a wall, hands around his throat, with a snarled threat that if Raphael dared interfere he wouldn't think twice about dragging him down with him. Just as suddenly as he'd had Raphael against the wall, he was gone again, leaving Raphael to rub his neck and wonder what the fuck had just happened. As before with the sulphur pit memory whatever miracle Gabriel had used was sharing all the emotions and sensations from the memories too, making Crowley gasp and rub his neck, the phantom pain of being pinned against a wall along with the lingering burning heat from Michael's blade making him wheeze. Immediately Aziraphale turned his attention to Crowley, concerned. Gabriel, still looking shaken by the realisation Crowley was Raphael, absentmindedly raised his hand and snapped his fingers, pausing the memory playback and stopping Raphael's emotions washing over them all. It was silent for a moment before all of the angels went to speak at once, all with a million questions, but Crowley cut them all off.   
"I know as much as you guys do…My earliest memory is the one that you wankers thought I was lying about" The venom in his voice would have worried Aziraphale if it wasn't clearly directed at the other two angels in the room. (And realistically he wouldn't have been worried for himself regardless, even if it had been aimed at him as well, just for Crowley. This all seemed like rather a lot for the poor boy to deal with.) Ignoring the way they both flinched slightly, Crowley fixed Gabriel with a calculating stare as he got up off the floor, enjoying watching him squirm under his unblinking gaze. (The whole not blinking was an oddly entertaining perk of the whole snake thing Crowley always thought, even more so once he realised how nervous it made people. And by people, he specifically meant people he didn't like, otherwise he tried to play more human. What kind of Demon did you take him for?) Once comfortably draped over the sofa in his usual slouch, he sighed and waved his hand at Gabriel. "Go on then, start it back up. I'm invested now." Aziraphale spluttered, protesting as he sat next to him and nervously wringing his hands, full of concern.   
"But it was hurting you, you can't seriously-" Crowley waved him off, already decided that he was more invested in finding out what memories he'd been missing, and hopefully why, rather than entertaining any kind of self preservation.   
"Angel it was hurting everyone. Anyway, I reckon Gabe here might be able to fix that when he works his magic again. Right Gabe?" He fixed Gabriel with a grin almost as fake as Gabriel's usual smiles, not caring to hide his fangs as usual. Gabriel mutely nodded, restarting the projection and keeping it to audio and visual only. It had been scent too but this time they joined Raphael in the midst of the war, whilst he was desperately trying to heal as many survivors as he could, but the smell of blood and death was too much in the small space of the bookshop so he quickly remedied it. Before them Raphael unfurled his wings and flew towards what Aziraphale recognised as the Archangels' meeting place, following the increasingly loud sound of a fight. Momentarily distracted trying to work out what that little gasp from Aziraphale had been for (It had been in appreciation of Raphael's wings, but Aziraphale absolutely would not confess to such a thing, where did you even get such a ridiculous notion? Really.) Crowley almost missed the look on both Michael's and Gabriel's faces. Both of them were looking weirdly… Apologetic? Sorry? Either way Crowley was unnerved and promptly decided to ignore them both for the remainder of this strange pseudo history lesson, turning his gaze back to Raphael as he entered the room to find Michael fighting Lucifer, defending a fallen Gabriel behind her. (not Fallen fallen, just regular fallen. Bleeding all over the show thanks to Lucifer, and Michael remembers being distinctly less than impressed by it. It makes a fight considerably harder when you're trying not to slip onto your arse because your brother decided to bleed everywhere, didn't Gabriel know these things?) Immediately Raphael rushed to Gabriel's side, focusing what little energy he had left on healing him, hands trembling with exertion. Using Raphael's sudden appearance to their advantage, Michael caught Lucifer off-guard and managed to cast him down, turning to their brothers to check on Gabriel. In the split second Michael had taken their eyes off him Lucifer managed to get hold of Raphael and drag him with him, ignoring Gabriel and Michael's cries of protest and Michael's attempt to grab him back to safety. Raphael managed a weak smile and a plea to look after the others before he was gone, plummeting towards Hell in Lucifer's vice like grip. Aziraphale hadn't joined Crowley in his decision to ignore the Archangels, glancing over in time to see Michael furiously blinking away golden tears and averting their gaze from the projection, regret written clearly across their face. The sound of wings desperately beating drew his attention back just in time to see Raphael doing his best to slow their descent and steer them away from the sulphur pits, both of them instead crash landing nearby and skidding across the jagged rocks until they hit the wall. Aziraphale winced, incredibly grateful that they weren't still feeling what Raphael felt, his wings tucking in closer in sympathy, even tucked away as they were. Judging by Crowley's shudder next to him he had probably just done exactly the same. In the projection Raphael was awkwardly tucking his damaged wings away so he could get to Lucifer, who had been separated from him on impact, asking why he hadn't done anything to save himself.   
"Didn't fancy using your own wings to help did y-" he cut himself off with a gasp seeing the slash across his wings, effectively rendering them useless, courtesy of Michael's blade and apologised, pressing his hands to the wound to heal them before getting slapped away by Lucifer, who rounded on him with a snarl. Flinching, Raphael backed away slightly, removing his hands. Lucifer was absolutely fuming, raging at Raphael and accusing him of starting all of this with his questions but Raphael had clearly tuned him out, watching in horror as other angels fell, hurtling towards the pits with their wings slashed similarly to Lucifers', leaving them unable to try and save themselves from their inevitable landing in the boiling pits churning around them. Without thinking Raphael surged forwards, even with his damaged wings and caught a nearby angel before they hit, almost falling into the sulphur himself with the sudden added weight on his injured wings, collapsing at the edge of the pit with the Fallen next to them, both somehow unscathed. (From the sulphur anyway, previous injuries ignored for now. And if that angel happened to be Beelzebub, who recalled hazy memories of their rescuer with fiery red hair and golden yellow eyes when they saw Crowley, and let him get away with more than he should have over the years of being a rather poor excuse for a Demon, then that's nobodies business but theirs thank you very much.) The projection went a bit hazy after that, Raphael working himself past the point of exhaustion to try and help as many of the Fallen from the sulphur as he could. When it came back into focus it was to Raphael kneeling on a rock next to the pits, hands clasped in prayer even as he sobbed and asked why. Why She would create suffering, why She threw out her children, why Her plan for the humans involved pain, and death, and misery, when none of these things had existed before She created humanity. He was interrupted by Lucifer's distinctive drawl, spinning round with a start and instinctively scrambling to his feet. Watching the projection everyone got the distinct impression they were still missing bits, from what they all remembered it was unlike Raphael to be so defensive, or look so pained at anyone's presence.   
"Ugh, I thought something smelled… Holy in here. Why are you even bothering? She won't answer you, She'll probably just abandon you too. Some of the Fallen you've fished out of the pits here asked less of Her you know." Raphael wiped his tears away, sighing and looking rather annoyed.   
"Luci if you're just here to be hateful you can leave already" Lucifer gasped, placing a hand over his chest. (A strange motion when you didn't have a heart but it had become a joking habit once the human body blueprints had been passed around and it stuck even in Hell. There were rather a lot of strange human things like that occult and ethereal beings had picked up from humanity over the millenia.)  
"I'm hurt you think I'm here to be hateful. I'm here for my brother" Even exhausted as he was, Raphael tensed up, ready to fly away at a moment's notice, but Lucifer was faster and roughly grabbed his wings before he even had the chance to extend them fully, pinning him down on the rock he had been praying on. Had Raphael been in the habit of breathing the harsh impact would have knocked the wind out of him. "I'm here to help you fit in you see. You keep going on about Upstairs and trying to talk to Her and it's causing problems. Half of these angels listened to you more than me before the war, and even now everyone's being swayed by you because you're too bloody Good, and that won't do down here. We can't have you giving people false hopes, can we?" As he spoke he got more aggressive, twisting Raphael's wings, ignoring the nauseating crunch of bones and the way Raphael was crying out underneath him as he tried to escape. When he didn't get a coherent answer from Raphael other than pained whimpers, he yanked his head back by the hair, forcing him to look into the pit bubbling below them. "Luckily for both of us I think I've found a compromise we can both get behind." Raphael had fished enough of the Fallen from those pits to know the damage they could do, his eyes widening and his attempts to escape becoming more desperate once he clicked exactly where this was going. It turns out a life of healing and creating aren't particularly good at preparing you for fighting though, so he didn't have much luck against Lucifer, not that Lucifer seemed to mind. If anything he seemed rather delighted watching Raphael struggle, leaning closer to talk into his ear, using his grip on his hair to press his face into the stone and keep him still.  
"What do you say Raph? I get you out of my way and you get to be with your beloved humans who started all this mess with your ridiculous questions. Everyone gets what they want."  
"Like you'd listen to my opinion anyway. This is just your way of getting revenge on me for putting the idea of asking questions into your head isn't it?" Lucifer blinked down at Raphael, surprised at the bitterness in his tone before laughing and agreeing.   
"Oh absolutely. You always knew me so well...which means you'll see why I think just letting you go topside doesn't seem fair, who knows what a stray Archangel could do to my plans. I think before you go I'll make you think you're a low level Demon with no special powers to speak of. We do want you to fit in here after all. And doesn't that sound fun? The healer Archangel, unable to do anything about the suffering around him just because he thinks he can't. And oh, if he finally finds out won't it just eat him alive? It's a win-win for me" Raphael stared at him in bewilderment, unable to grasp why he seemed so pleased about his plans, and how he'd taken so quickly to this Evil thing after being cast down. (Was it quickly? Raphael wasn't really sure how long he'd spent in a daze in these pits doing what he could for the Fallen. Time was a fairly new thing too and he still wasn't quite sure how it worked. It still felt like a quick change to him though)   
"Wha...what is your problem Luci? Has Falling changed everyone like this?"  
"Don't be so dramatic, it's nothing personal….well the throwing you into the pits bit isn't. I just know you'd question being the only Demon who hadn't experienced the pits. I've got a horrible feeling even without your powers or memories you're still going to be an inquisitive little bastard" Lucifer smiled, snapping his fingers to miracle said memory and power loss, taking the moment of confusion from Raphael to unceremoniously shove him into the waiting sulphur pit. Rather than waiting around to watch his brother struggle in the pits, Lucifer waved to him as he left, using a minor miracle to encourage the sulphur to make it harder for him. By the time Raphael had freed himself he had no idea who, or what he was, he just slumped at the side of the pits and sobbed, the memories finally catching up to where Crowley recognised. Telling Gabriel this, he realised he wasn't particularly far from taking inspiration from his past self and just laying on the floor and sobbing (and wouldn't that be a great idea in front of two Archangels, who you are apparently one of, and you've all just seen your disjointed memories of your disowned sibling launching you into a pit of fire. That particular breakdown can happen later, Crowley firmly decided) until he looked over at the two Archangels. Who had apparently absolutely no idea how to deal with this information either going by their stricken expressions. There was a moment of awkward silence before Michael reached out  
"Raphael, I-"   
"No, just no, shut the fuck up" snapped Crowley, considerably more aggressively than he'd intended to, burying his face in his hands. "... N-not right now, please." When it looked like Gabriel might protest Aziraphale quickly intervened.   
"You heard Crowley, another time. Don't rush back on our account" With false politeness he herded them both out the door and slammed it behind them, using a miracle to lock it and close all the blinds to give Crowley some privacy as he returned to him. Glancing up from his hands, Crowley gave him a weak smile and patted the couch next to him in invitation.  
"...They're going to be insufferable you know" Aziraphale sighed, collapsing into the couch next to him without any of his usual posture, tiredly nodding and agreeing. They both sat in silence for a moment, trying to process what had just happened when out of the blue, a realisation struck Aziraphale   
"You know my dear, when you said you'd just sauntered vaguely downwards I would never have guessed it meant you hadn't actually Fallen." he mused out loud, staring blankly at the ceiling, before realising what he'd just said and sitting bolt upright, apologising to Crowley."I'm so sorry dearest, I didn't mean to be insensitive, I-... well now there's really no reason to be laughing so much." Aziraphale huffed, trying not to smile at Crowley's reaction, even if interrupting people by laughing at them was incredibly rude. Given the day he'd had Aziraphale figured he could let it slide though.


	2. Heavenly bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so time for Crowley to deal. Does this count as a wing fic now??

The two of them sat in companiable silence for a while after Crowley had finished laughing at Aziraphale's comment, having decided instead to slouch more dramatically so he could rest his head on said angel's shoulder.   
"... So, are we going to talk about this at all dearest? Or am I going to find you taking it out on your plants again?" Crowley pouted, even Aziraphale gently running his fingers through his hair didn't make up for suggesting they talk about something he was happy to internalise and deal with in some unhealthy way later. (Happy might not be the right word for it but it was a tried and tested technique of his and so far it had gone alright...ish. Depending on who you asked, anyway.) "Oh don't give me that look, this is hardly something you can just ignore. Don't you have any thoughts on the matter?"   
"Thinking maybe a nice vintage red?" Stretching in a way that would be impossible for anyone that wasn't part snake, he hauled himself to his feet and went to raid Aziraphale's wine stash. Aziraphale sighed, taking the bottle from his hand.   
"Not what I meant and you know it, you tricky old snake." Crowley was ready to protest but Aziraphale swapped the wine out for another bottle and grabbed a couple of glasses. After a moment's consideration he also picked up an extra bottle, figuring it was going to be that kind of evening. On his way back to the couch Crowley unfurled his wings from where they were normally kept hidden, rustling his feathers a little. Since seeing the state Raphael's wings had ended up in, his had been driving him mad. Could wings decide to protest in sympathy? He wasn't sure, he only knew he was vaguely unimpressed at their behaviour.   
"Don't know about you but after today I feel like I need a stretch" He plonked himself down, sprawling across the couch face down so his wings weren't in the way, looking up at Aziraphale expectantly for his wine and freezing at the look on his face. Aziraphale nearly dropped everything he was holding when Crowley unfurled his wings, staring at him in horror. Concerned, Crowley miracled up a mirror to check his wings, gaping in shock at the two extra pairs that had manifested along with his usual wings. The two extra pairs that also clearly had not been seen to since his dip in the pits of hell. (The pair he usually manifested were as well maintained as ever, but that went without saying. Today though they just served to make the two mangled pairs look even worse in comparison) Panicking, he immediately went to tuck them away again but Aziraphale stopped him, quickly backing off when even the gentle touch to his damaged wings made Crowley flinch away from him with a pained whine. Ashamed, Aziraphale went to apologise (What had he been thinking grabbing his wings like that after everything they'd seen today? Of course it had been a terrible idea.) but Crowley stopped him, shaking his head. "...always wondered why I could never get rid of the sulphur smell properly. Guess this explains it." Mindful of his wings, Aziraphale sat next to him, opening the bottle of wine and just passing it over. He'd been right, it was definitely going to be one of those evenings for them.   
"Do you want me to see what I can do about it?" he asked hesitantly, watching Crowley chug from the bottle. "That is um, if you're okay with it, I know having other people handling your wings can be a bit invasive and considering what we saw today I'd understand if you'd rather not, but-"   
"It's okay angel" interrupted Crowley, cutting him off mid ramble before he started second guessing himself any more. "It's not like you can make them any worse, might as well go for it." The relief on Aziraphale's face was almost too much so Crowley opted to continue drinking and pull a cushion towards him, ready to bury his face in it at the first sign of anything overly emotional. Having been left tucked away for 6000 years give or take, just because he hadn't known he had them (Joys of being an occult being Crowley mused. He didn't know he had six wings so he never saw six wings. Bending reality to fit your Expectations had its ups and downs apparently.) his lower four wings had healed somewhat, which was something at least, thought Aziraphale as he miracled up everything he might need to tend to them. First things first, he decided to carefully brush out the feathers, removing any broken or loose ones, being as careful as possible.   
"I'll do my best to be gentle with you, but if you need me to stop please let me know. I'm just going to try and clean them up a bit so I can see the damage, is that okay?" Crowley nodded, which Aziraphale assumed was about as good as he'd get right now, deep in thought about the day's events as he worked. Crowley for his part was doing his best to hold still and not disturb the angel's work, steadily making his way through the wine in the hope it would help. With what he wasn't sure, just that it was better than laying there doing nothing whilst the angel added to the slowly building pile of discarded feathers. Whilst Aziraphale worked he rambled on about all manner of things in an attempt to distract himself from the devastating state of the poor demon's wings. Was he even a demon though? He'd technically never Fallen, but he clearly had demonic powers. Was that, like the wings, down to Crowley's Expectations, or Lucifer's miracle, or could you become a demon via some kind of strange Hellish osmosis and staying Downstairs too long? Were the wings and demonic powers even related? It wasn't until he pondered if he should be calling him Crowley or Raphael and was answered with a shaky sob that he realised he'd ended up taking a rather dangerous tangent. And that he'd been talking out loud. Oh fuck. Tearing his attention away from his work he looked to Crowley, only to find him hugging the stray cushion to his chest and burying his face in it as he quietly sobbed, the wine long abandoned on the floor next to the couch. Next to the blood stains from earlier when Crowley had gotten himself 'lightly stabbed' realised Aziraphale as he moved to comfort Crowley. What a day for the poor being, at this point he thinks anyone would be sobbing into soft furnishings, even without his thoughtless comments. Hearing him move and registering the distinct lack of angel hands in his wings, Crowley hesitantly lifted his head to glare at him, the effect somewhat ruined by the gold tears running down his cheeks and the generally defeated aura coming from the usually animated and outlandish snake he'd grown so fond of over the years. Unable to help himself, Aziraphale cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears away and trying not to think too much about the way Crowley leaned into his touch, even whilst trying to blink away tears and compose himself.   
".. I think I'll stick with Crowley. Is that OK?" Hearing such a quiet, hesitant tone from Crowley felt not dissimilar to a punch in the chest, Aziraphale had never heard him sound so lost, even at some of humanity's worst moments.  
"What? Of course it is dear boy, why wouldn't it be?"   
"I don't know. I-.. I'm.. I don't know what to do about any of this." Sadly, Crowley turned his gaze upwards, as though searching for answers. (At this point he'd take anything, even a Heavenly 'fuck off', just so he had some inkling of what to do, or what She was thinking.)"I don't know what She wants from me. I don't think She's ever answered me, but She never cast me out either. Should I still be Raphael?"   
"I wouldn't take it personally, She hasn't answered anyone in millenia." Crowley looked genuinely surprised by that admission, confused by Her change in behaviour. (Before, he distantly remembered, he had always been able to speak to Her about anything and everything. No matter how fondly exasperated She had seemed by his questions or comments on Creation, She had always replied. Not necessarily with answers mind, sometimes Her cryptic riddles left him with more questions than he'd started with, but She had always answered.) "Besides, it's been 6000 years, I rather feel if you were 'meant to be' anything, you'd have been told by now. I think it's demon's choice on the matter."  
"You were just questioning if I even was a demon, don't give me that" Huffing indignantly, Crowley went back to his wine, mulling things over.   
"You know I didn't mean it like that… I  
I uh, I actually didn't mean to say any of that out loud either. I do hope I didn't offend you" After a moment of contemplation Crowley shrugged, wincing a little at the disturbance to his wings.   
"Nah, in a weird way I think it kind of helped me think about it. You know me, love a question. But I don't suppose you'd uh..." he trailed off, motioning to his wings. "I just really want to put them away and I'm not sure I can move them right now"   
"Oh, of course. Terribly sorry, I got a little distracted there" Aziraphale quickly moved back to his previous position, carefully checking his wings over now they weren't a mess of feathers. "... I hate to say this dear but I don't think I'll be able to help much, no matter what I try." (Crowley had expected as much but the confession still stung. Though he guessed he should be thankful he'd somehow come out of it all with the one pair that were just about useable. Some demons didn't even have that.)   
"That's fine, just do what you can….got any other thoughts about the whole Raphael thing?" Recognising the request for a distraction, Aziraphale smiled and continued talking whilst he tended to his wings. (A few minor miracles didn't really count as cheating did they? It wasn't like he'd managed to convince every awkwardly healed break or fracture to decide they'd healed that little bit straighter, or every aggressive looking scar to be that little bit smaller so Crowley wouldn't have as much trouble moving his wings) He spoke about all sorts, initially wondering if all demons still cried golden tears like angels did, (he had heard rumours about them crying oily black tears instead but that could have just been propaganda. He always took Upstairs' comments about demons with a pinch of salt) or if it was just a Crowley/Raphael thing. He did seem to be a rather special case. Which obviously bought him onto things he'd noticed over the years like Crowley's ability to stop time. Surely that wasn't a normal Demon's trick, especially when Crowley himself had said he wasn't a particularly powerful Demon. The way reality seemed that much more eager to bend to his Expectations than it did for even Aziraphale himself. How he had a seemingly endless amount of stamina when it came to miracles in comparison to the other demons he had encountered. Aziraphale highly doubted anyone else could have managed Crowley's stunts on the day of the failed apocalypse. ("I mean really dear, you discorporated a Duke of Hell whilst driving a flaming Bentley and somehow weren't even burned at all? Are we really not acknowledging this?") For a while Crowley just laid there, listening to Aziraphale chatter, glad he wasn't expecting any kind of answers from him and was content to just talk at him, giving him time to think it all over. (Crowley had always found listening to Aziraphale talk to be rather soothing. There was something about the lilt of his voice, the usually well thought out and interesting topics that had always distracted him from whatever was plaguing him at the time) It wasn't until Aziraphale paused, looking like he'd had a revelation and excitedly asking if he thought he'd be able to do larger scale miracles now that he remembered he could, that the reality of what Lucifer had said really hit him. He had been right hadn't he? Crowley had been there during wars and plagues and all other kinds of situations where he could have easily aided the humans, had he just known how to. Had he just remembered that he was the fucking Archangel of healing. (He'd always been too scared to try healing anything significant after an unfortunate incident downstairs involving a fellow lower level demon, and accidental Holy combustion, which in hindsight should have been a giveaway rather than a deterrence) For millennia he'd just settled for easing humans suffering with what little he had trusted himself to do, no matter how much it had pained him not to do more. Desperately hoping to be proved wrong, to prove he didn't still have Raphael's healing abilities, (Yes he was referring to Raphael as a separate being like the other demons did with their past angelic selves. Even if he hadn't Fallen in the traditional sense it didn't change that he saw himself as Raphael as much as he saw himself as an aardvark) he poured his energy into healing his wings. His heart plummeted when he felt everything righting itself, the strange sensations of feathers immediately sprouting where there had been bare patches, messy breaks and fractures miraculously neatening themselves up like nothing had happened, and torn ligaments practically tripping over themselves to fix themselves back together properly. He could still do it and wasn't that just bloody fantastic, a final fuck you from Lucifer even after they'd cut all ties with each other. Aziraphale had been in a bit of a daze watching the wings mend themselves under his hands, amazed by the miraculous energy behind them that was most definitely not his, startled when they were torn from him and Crowley practically launched himself to the other end of the couch, curling in on himself as far away from him as he could get. Quickly trying to process what had just happened, he thought over what he'd been saying, putting two and two together to somehow get eighteen. (Which was honestly an embarrassingly frequent occurrence between them, you'd think two beings who'd been around since The Beginning would have learned to communicate a bit better) Hesitant to intrude on Crowley's space after he'd pulled away from him, he stayed where he was, wringing his hands and apologising for upsetting him. Crowley raised an eyebrow at that.   
"Why...what are you apologising for angel?" (Luckily for them both, their miscommunications had happened often enough that they had started to pick up on when to prod the other into talking. Most of the time it took an anxious angel or an emotional demon to start these talks, and right now they had both, so it was somewhat inevitable)   
"Oh well I worded myself rather poorly and am afraid I caused offence, and then I couldn't even fix your wings and you seemed so upset and then-" Crowley inhaled deeply, not that he needed it, but humans said it was calming and right now he'd give anything a go, before interrupting.   
"Angel listen, you have nothing to apologise for. You didn't cause offence or anything its just.. Lucifer was right, wasn't he? I only meant to help you with my wings so I could see what I was working with miracle wise, and boom, fully fucking healed. I can still use Raphael's power and what good have I done with it?" The tears were back with a vengeance, Crowley hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms. He'd gone eons without fucking up in front of him and here he was bawling his eyes out on his couch for the second time in a day, and now he'd heard Aziraphale's musing on if it was another sign of his bodged Fall he couldn't bear to let the angel see the damned gold that was getting everywhere.   
"You've done the best you could with what you had at the time." Aziraphale's tone left no room for argument, even as he held Crowley close and wrapped his wings around them both protectively. "Would you be as hard on me were this the other way round? If say, Gabriel had decided to mess with my head and I hadn't been able to bless anyone?" Crowley decided against pointing out that Gabriel had done that plenty anyway, the manipulative prick, hesitantly shaking his head.   
"Never. But that's different...you've always done everything you could and-" This time Aziraphale cut Crowley off before he could spiral into a self-deprecating ramble, gently tilting his head up so they could see each other.   
"No it's not. Don't you dare tell me you haven't done everything you could, and then some. You really think I've forgotten any of your efforts to help the humans over the years?" Crowley shook his head again, clearly unsure and opening his mouth to protest when Aziraphale shhed him, putting his finger to his lips."Whatever you're about to say against yourself, stop. I won't stand for it when nothing about this was your fault. As I recall, it seemed a lot like Lucifer took any choice from you. Or did you ask him to drag you with him to Hell? For any of his abuse? For him to manipulate your memories?"   
" Wha? No of course I didn't but I still-" Aziraphale loudly shhed him, putting his finger to his lips again.   
"What did I literally just say? Crowley you are not at fault here. Please stop blaming yourself." Crowley rolled his eyes, rubbing at his tear-stained cheeks and pointedly not looking at Aziraphale.   
"I still think-" Again, Aziraphale shhed him, cutting him off and continued to do so whenever he went to say anything to blame himself until Crowley couldn't help but laugh. "Angel stop being such a bastard, you Heavenly bloody menace."  
"Why would I when it works though? You've always been good enough to humour me." Amused by the smug tone in Aziraphale's voice, Crowley nuzzled into his neck, getting more comfortable and smiling.   
"Like I said, absolute bloody menace….Even if it apparently wasn't my fault I still feel guilty about it. Is that allowed or are you going to go full bastard on me again?" Aziraphale pretended to put thought into it, hmming and ahhing until Crowley laughed and swatted his shoulder, telling him to piss off.   
"You know you're allowed to do what you want my dear. Anything apart from self-blaming when you were the victim in this. The bastard angel rules against it, and he will continue to be a menace if he must." Even as he teased, Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss to the top of Crowley's head, smiling contentedly at the way the Demon relaxed in his arms and murmured an agreement to his terms. They were quiet for a while, Aziraphale starting to think Crowley had dozed off on him again (not that he minded at all, and if he sometimes encouraged it, well who was to know?) when said Demon looked up at him, biting his lip slightly, clearly embarrassed to ask whatever it was he wanted.   
"Uh angel, can I um, I mean will you uh… Letmestayheretonight?" Once he'd deciphered the rushed request he nodded, brushing Crowley's hair out his face.   
"Of course, as long as you need my dear. Is there anything else I can do?"   
"Nah you're good… I just don't want to be alone right now, especially when we don't know if.. Well when, Gabriel and Michael are coming back for answers. I don't think I could handle that right now" he confessed, flushed with embarrassment and quietly trailing off, not really wanting to elaborate any further.  
"I believe, considering the circumstances, I could probably put a word in with Upstairs and ask them to give you some space if you'd like? But first I think it's rather time to get you to bed."   
"Trying to get me into bed already? Don't I at least get a date first?" laughed Crowley waggling his eyebrows at him. "Really angel, who knew you had it in you."  
"You stop that you sneaky Serpent, you know that's not what I meant" Crowley could tease him about whatever he wanted right now though decided Aziraphale, anything was better than seeing him as down as he had been earlier, so he rolled with it as he carried Crowley upstairs to plonk him on the bed with instructions to stay put until he'd rested. After being faced with whatever the snake equivalent of puppy eyes was, he sighed and miracled them both into more sleep appropriate attire and joined him. After the day he'd had Crowley decided fuck it and cuddled into Aziraphale's side, summoning the book he had been reading before Crowley had interrupted him earlier, placing it into his hands for him.   
"Angel, when you talk to Upstairs can you ask them to come tomorrow if they want to talk or whatever?"   
"Hm? Of course I can. Are you sure though? Seems a little soon." He frowned at his book, concerned. (Crowley didn't have a history of making particularly good choices in regards to his own well-being, so he felt it was fair for him to feel rather troubled by it.)   
"Figure I should just treat it like a plaster. No point dragging it out, right?" Aziraphale took a moment to remember what they said to do with plasters before pouting at Crowley. "Don't start angel… I don't want to deal with all of this and then have them bring it back up. Please just let me get it all out of the way" Aziraphale faltered before agreeing, sending a quick message upstairs for him, directly to Gabriel. Almost instantly a small envelope dropped onto his lap with an agreement to meet, giving them a time and place. Crowley looked over it and hummed in agreement, finding it acceptable. "That was easy. Well g'night angel, think I'll take your advice and get some sleep before seeing them. Humans always say sleeping on something helps." With a yawn that definitely wouldn't have been possible for someone who wasn't a snake in his spare time, he settled down, patting Aziraphale's chest."Don't stay up all night fretting angel. Not much we can do about it now. Just gotta wait until our brunch date with my ex-siblings."


	3. Time for coffee and a fag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel as usual puts his foot in it and Aziraphale is a sneaky angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the chapter thing because this is just going to be me throwing more at it whenever I get a chance. Still un betad and still not great at writing so as usual shout if there's any mistakes.

Turns out the place Gabriel had suggested was a coffee shop near St James's Park that they frequented fairly frequently. Aziraphale figured that he'd just just used Heaven's equivalent of Google maps because there was no way he could see him knowing about this lovely little place otherwise. (If this went terribly he was already lamenting his inability to return to the sweet, polite staff here and their wonderful collection of cakes. He was fairly sure Crowley would miss their coffee too, it was apparently very strong so therefore very good. ) Crowley sprawled in his seat, tapping his foot impatiently whilst he stared at the clock, already two coffees down, just for something to do. They'd both underestimated the time it would take to get there and had arrived early enough that Crowley's anxious energy was starting to get unbearable. By this point Aziraphale was just about ready to call the whole thing off and drag him back home, the Demon having been a nervous mess from the moment he woke up. (Understandable really, what Demon in their right mind would not be nervous at the prospect of being in an enclosed space with two Archangels? That being said, it was unusual for Crowley to be quite so bad, and Aziraphale had a worrying feeling there was something else bothering him too.) Aziraphale sighed, watching the Demon over his cup of tea and trying to work out why Gabriel would pick a public place. Was he hoping an audience meant less chance of confrontation? Was it an attempt to pick somewhere neutral? As though to answer his question Gabriel and Michael appeared in the seats opposite, a miracle ensuring none of the humans around them noticed. Well, there went the audience idea if they were already using miracles to avoid attention.   
"Aziraphale, Raphael. So glad you could make it." Aziraphale nearly choked on his tea in shock, whilst Crowley visibly tensed up next to him, both of them questioning if he was being sincere or not. (Stranger things had happened Aziraphale supposed, but nothing had prepared him for the image of Gabriel being pleasant in the presence of well, anyone, but especially in front of the Serpent of Eden. Even if he was also an Archangel too, the whole 'originator of sin' thing had really pissed off Upstairs, and they'd always been that little bit more aggressive when it came to Crowley because of it)   
"It's Crowley" Most of his way through his third coffee, Crowley glared at them both, cradling the cup between his hands to hide the way they were trembling. (Nerves, he decided, were a poor choice from the planning department and he didn't much enjoy that this corporation suffered with them quite badly. It was very inconvenient and he had some strong words for whoever was responsible.)  
"Ah, right. We shouldn't have assumed." At least Michael had the grace to look apologetic, whilst Gabriel just looked confused as to why he would choose to use his demonic name when he had a perfectly good one that She had given him.   
"So uh, Crowley, about yesterday. I wanted to apologise for my behaviour." Aziraphale nearly fell out of his seat, looking between them all to check they had all heard Gabriel apologise as well. Crowley frowned, not convinced, or prepared to accept it.   
"Oh do you now? Would we still be having this conversation if you got your way yesterday and I just showed you all the Fall? If I was literally any other Demon?" Clearly uncomfortable, Gabriel shook his head, unsure what that had to do with anything. "What a surprise….and Michael, would you be here either if that had been the case?" The venom in his voice managed to draw the attention of the people at the next table over, who suddenly all realised they had somewhere else to be. Somewhere away from the angry red head who looked ready to start a riot if anyone so much as breathed wrong near him. (Unknown to them he could easily do just that, though it had been a while. Mass violence really wasn't his thing, despite the impression he was currently giving off.) Michael didn't attempt pleasantries like Gabriel had, flat out telling him they were only there to ask him to consider returning home and that things like apologies could be addressed in due time. Sensing the change in the demon's mood, Aziraphale pre-emptively snapped his fingers, ensuring all the humans around them only saw the four of them sitting at their table having a normal conversation.   
"Wonderful, lovely to know that you don't see a problem with your behaviour at all. I should have guessed that bullshit treatment is fine with you unless it's towards someone you've approved of. (His heavy emphasis on the 'you've' did not go unnoticed) So, useless apology out of the way, I assume now you're going to explain why I should go back Upstairs with you?" Both Archangels seemed uncomfortable with the way Crowley was looking at them expectantly, most likely having assumed with his memories returned he'd be behaving more like he had in Heaven when he went by Raphael.  
"... Because you're not Fallen and you should be Upstairs? Because you don't need to continue masquerading as a demon when that kind of thing is below you? You're an archangel Crowley, even if you did temporarily forget yourself and decide on a strange name" Gabriel explained, waving his hands and continuing to be totally oblivious to Crowley's rapidly darkening mood. "We're even willing to forgive your past transgressions, considering the circumstances. I mean really, what's 6000 years give or take, especially in the grand scheme of things. We think having you back on the team could really boost morale, and considering your… creativity, we're sure you could bring some great ideas to the table." Crowley literally had to pause and lift his glasses to stare at Gabriel in disbelief at what he was hearing.   
".... You're serious aren't you? Aziraphale and I made it clear we wanted nothing to do with either side, and now you're here trying to get me to go back Upstairs because you think I'm going to be useful to you." Michael shook their head, shhing Gabriel before he made things worse.   
"Our brother might not have the best way with words. (A distinct understatement, everyone at the table decided, with the obvious exception of the Archangel in question, and a pretty poor decision of Hers, choosing the most tactless angel in all of Creation to be Her messenger) Whilst having you back Upstairs would be an advantage over Hell, our main goal here is as siblings, to ask you to come home. You've been sorely missed by a lot of Upstairs you know, us included."   
"Whilst the sentiment is lovely, I'm going to have to reject your offer. So, if you don't mind, I think we're done here." Crowley drained what was left of his coffee, leaving some cash on the table and got up, having had enough of this. Incredulous, Gabriel made to stop him, grabbing his arm and motioning to the humans around them.   
"Are you seriously saying you would pass up the chance to do Good and return home, just to continue this? Living like a human?... What happened to you Raphael?" Crowley viciously snatched his arm out of his grasp, spinning round, ready to lay into him.   
"I told you dickhead, it's Crowley not Raphael. And yes, I do want to continue this, do you really think I'd jump at the chance to go back to a bunch of ssself righteousss pricks who have done almost as much damage to humanity as Hell?" Annoyed with himself as he was for getting emotional enough to start hissing, Crowley couldn't say he didn't enjoy the way Gabriel flinched when he leant into his space to snarl at him."Your ssstupid fucking meddling in their lives can go on without me."   
"What do you mean we've done almost as much as Hell? That's ridiculous, we're only doing what is best for them according to Her plan."   
"Fuck off are you following Her plan. Do you really think Ssshe would have wanted any of your crusades, and martyrs, and smiting, and religious guilt? Do you think the atrocitiesss done in Her name have pleased her? That Ssshe wants ornate buildings made in Her honour whilst the people who made them struggle to get by? You're all more interested in the appearance of doing Good, than actually doing it. The one angel I've met who actually manages it, you decide to condemn to fucking hell fire! At leasst with Hell you know they're out to screw you over, rather than playing nice until you've outlived your usefulness." If Michael and Gabriel had looked surprised by Crowley's rejection before, then now they were both absolutely floored. Speechless, Michael pulled Gabriel away from Crowley before he pissed him off any further, looking incredibly troubled by Crowley's outburst. Crowley didn't even stop to acknowledge them or Gabriel, storming out and slamming the door behind him hard enough that the glass panels rattled. There was a pause where the three angels tried to process what had just happened, before Michael sighed and turned to Aziraphale.   
"He always was the emotional one... If he ever changes his mind the offer still stands. Even if it's only for a brief visit. That goes for you as well Principality. Could you let him know?" Dumbstruck, Aziraphale agreed to pass on Michael's message, throwing a half hearted goodbye over his shoulder as he rushed out, going to find Crowley. He found him in the Bentley, slumped with his head against the steering wheel, not making any move to acknowledge Aziraphale's presence until he slipped into the passenger seat next to him. ".... I don't know what I expected. Sorry for that angel."  
"No, no, don't apologise my dear… Are you quite alright?" Crowley shrugged and started the Bentley, driving them back to the bookshop in silence. (At least he wasn't so nervous now he supposed, not that he had any idea what this feeling that had replaced it was.) Once back in the bookshop Crowley made a beeline for the wine they hadn't finished the previous night.   
"Want me to see if I can convince a deliveroo driver to swing by the Ritz or something for you? Make up for leaving before you got at the cake selection" Aziraphale accepted the offered glass of wine, suggesting the bakery a couple of roads over instead for convenience's sake. With a snap it was done, and Crowley relaxed into his usual spot, watching the angel do the same. ".... D'you think I made the right decision?"   
"Hmm? Of course, I don't think you'd do well Upstairs to be honest.… though if you did change your mind, or wanted to pop up and see anyone, Michael said the offer would stay open."   
Crowley nearly dropped his glass, and not for the first time that day, Aziraphale wished he wasn't wearing his glasses so he could read his expression better. (He did have it down pretty well, after all he'd had over 6000 years of practise, but sometimes the dark lenses made it somewhat difficult for him.)   
"They did?... That's uh… unexpected." Unsure what else to do, Crowley just drained his wine and refilled his glass, thankful for the delivery driver's knock at the door to distract Aziraphale.   
"It is a bit… don't suppose I could tempt you to some choux?" He didn't even need to look in the box to know Crowley had ordered all of his favourites, including these strange little choux buns filled to the brim with salted caramel liqueur and cream that he usually managed to get Crowley to share with him. (He himself wasn't even particularly fond of them, he just enjoyed getting Crowley to eat with him for a change so he'd insisted they were a favourite to make sure the Demon always got them whenever he bought Aziraphale anything.)  
"Go on then, consider me tempted" Crowley moved to make space for both of them, kidnapping one from the box and popping it into his mouth. "Kind of wished I'd tried to convince them to eat. Gabriel is hilarious when he's pretending to be human. Michael I've never seen try human behaviour, but I reckon they'd give it a pretty good go."   
"And you called me the menace." Fondly, Aziraphale rolled his eyes whilst picking at a pastry, thinking over the disaster of a meeting they'd just had. (Unknown to him family reunions could often go either way, and by comparison Crowley's had gone fairly well.)"You know, I think that might have gone considerably better if it had been just Michael. They're far easier to talk to, even with the whole resting bitch face thing"   
"resting bi-... Angel where did you learn that phrase?" Hearing the angel swear always hugely entertained Crowley, but such a relatively modern phrase from the angel? Definitely down to outside influences.   
"Miss Device asked me about yours and I wasn't really sure what female dogs had to do with faces at rest, so she very kindly explained to me when I asked." Crowley could only imagine how that conversation had gone, having many similar ones with the angel over the years, laughing so much he had to lift his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes.  
"Never change, angel." Once Crowley had recovered it didn't take long for them to both settle into their usual routine of Crowley drinking himself to sleep, sprawled haphazardly over the couch, whilst Aziraphale sat and read, working his way through a pot of tea and the rest of the pastries. Crowley however decided to shake up this routine by waking himself up with a start, almost falling off the couch, and looking around in bewilderment. Aziraphale had removed his glasses whilst he slept so the frames wouldn't dig in, so he could clearly see how confused the Demon was. Putting his book down, he offered said glasses back to Crowley who eagerly took them and jammed them on his face. (Aziraphale never much liked his habit of wearing glasses when it was just them, and was slowly trying to break his habit of it, but he'd learned it helped Crowley feel better having them on so let it slide whenever the Demon seemed distressed.)   
"Would you like to talk about it?" Aziraphale always asked, even if the answer was usually no. It wouldn't do to let his poor demon deal with everything bothering him alone, especially when he took so much to heart and blamed himself for so much. Instead of an actual response, Crowley made one of his strange noises and waved him off, thinking for a moment before going to rummage through some of Aziraphale's books. Unknown to any customers, and well out of their reach, hidden by a considerable amount of miracles, the angel had quite the collection of books dealing with the occult, ethereal, and other generally not-safe-for-human-hands kind of topics. Curious, he watched as Crowley rummaged, noting the titles of books he pulled out to flick through, and realising with concern that whatever had woken him had most likely been to do with the miracles Lucifer and Gabriel had used on him. They were all texts covering Raphael's field of work rather than Crowley's, even though there were plenty of those there as well.   
"Angel, theoretical question here. If someone were to have a shit tonne of miracles shoved into their mind do you think they'd lose it?"   
"I'm not convinced you ever had it to begin with dear boy." Aziraphale ignored Crowley's amused snort and decided to save some of the more fragile tomes from him, helping him go through them. "Assuming you had quite the dream to wake up and willingly read." (They both knew that as much as he'd like to read more, snake eyes weren't particularly good at that kind of thing, so he'd just gotten creative and worked around it with things like text-to-speech and audio books to save himself the inevitable migraines. Unfortunately that did mean a lot of Aziraphale's books weren't accessible for him unless they decided it was time for a lazy afternoon of the angel reading to him.)  
"Something like that. Was this whole mash up of mine and Raphael's memories, super weird… kinda trippy to be honest. But in his memories I saw him writing in a couple of books that I'm sure you have now." Knowing exactly the ones he probably meant, Aziraphale pulled out a few books that had been baffling him for decades. He couldn't even remember exactly how he'd come across them, assuming they'd just got mixed up at some point when he was borrowing books from Upstairs, but something about these few had made him keep them rather than try and find their rightful home. When he'd first found them they had immediately made him think of Crowley, with the two intertwined snakes running down the spine, and until yesterday he'd had no idea why. Recognising the books, Crowley lit up and excitedly took them from him, pulling him into a hug. Aziraphale briefly hugged back, before shooing him to go read those and leave his other books alone, tidying the mess he'd made. He did of course keep an ear out, still unsure of what to make of this behaviour from his Demon, but heard nothing to prompt him to leave his tidying duties. When he was satisfied everything was back in its place and the miracles hiding everything still held, he returned to Crowley, watching fondly as he flipped through the books. Not looking up from his reading, Crowley patted the space next to him in invitation, snuggling into his side and holding the book so they could both see it as soon as he sat down. Surprised but not at all complaining, Aziraphale let him, choosing to read the book with Crowley rather than comment and risk putting him off. (He'd always found Crowley to be an incredibly affectionate snake, as long as you didn't embarrass him by drawing attention to it. Unless it was particularly cold and you were particularly warm, in which case you'd still have a cuddly snake, just with a lot of sulking and theatrics.)   
"Do you think if these 'accidentally' ended up with the right humans they could use them?" These, being Raphael's notebooks, full of his thoughts about humanity and it's design. It ranged from queries about design features and comments on bits he'd change, to all kinds of potential remedies for just about every ailment under the sun. Aziraphale particularly enjoyed the full page rant about the appendix, though seeing some of the scribbled questions like 'why aren't we giving them wings Mum? Are you mad at them already?' or 'why does Mum want to make childbirth so painful sounding? Is it some kind of strange population control?' did sadden him. Even when he thought he was Fallen, Crowley had still held Her in such high regard, so he supposed he shouldn't be all that surprised that before his accidental trip downwards he had been incredibly close to Her. Or that even before he'd met them, he was so concerned for the humans and how they'd cope.   
"I mean we'd definitely have to translate it, and potentially censor it a little because I'm not sure throwing some of these comments about proposed variations that never made the cut will go well. However, it's all knowledge they definitely should have… Are the other books the same?"  
"Same kind of thing but different subjects, one is space, and there's a couple covering nature, but I think those we'd definitely have to go through too. Going to be a fair few extinct species by now." Distantly, Aziraphale wondered if giving them his knowledge from their creation was Crowley's way of making up for being unable to help for so long, because he knew that was still bothering the poor boy. Unnecessarily though, he thought, reminiscing on all the times that Crowley had tempted humans towards knowledge, steering them in the right direction, and encouraging critical thinking. Even his very first act in Eden had been to give them free will, and the knowledge to distinguish right from wrong. (Not that all of them put that gift to use, but the thought had been there when the apple was handed over, and that's what mattered.) He didn't want to admit it, but Aziraphale thought it probably was good luck on Crowley's part that he Fell. Heaven wouldn't have allowed an Archangel to stay on Earth with the humans, and the rules about what you could and couldn't do for them would have driven him mad. Staying upstairs probably would have destroyed him. Or led to him full on threatening to fight Her, and all of Her lackeys. Either way, it would have ended badly for everyone involved. Rather than voice any of these thoughts and risk having an offended Demon, Aziraphale decided to take a safer route. (He was however saving them for a later date, he thought Crowley could use the reminders of what he'd done for humans far more often.)  
"Your theoretical question earlier, are these books to do with that?"   
"Hmm? Oh partially, kinda? I was just being dramatic though, you know what I'm like" (That was a given, though this time it worked against Crowley, they'd known each other for far too long for Aziraphale to believe him now, recognising avoidance techniques when he saw them.) Frowning at the dismissive tone, Aziraphale kept prodding for answers, even whilst Crowley miracled up translated versions of the books and set about making amendments to them and continued to brush it off. It wasn't until a particularly pointed comment that Crowley caved, slamming the books down with more force than was strictly necessary.   
"What do you want to hear angel? That I'm absolutely shitting it right now? That I have no idea what to do about any of this Archangel bullshit? What about any of this sounds like a thing I'd want to talk about?"   
"... Honestly, none of it, because you like to make out you have the emotional range of a teaspoon dearest, even when we both know that's not true… But I do think that you should though, I'm sure there's got to be a bit in there on the dangers of repression" As if to prove his point Aziraphale flicked through one of Crowley's books, triumphantly showing him some of the pages on mental health. Dramatically Crowley threw himself down on the couch, pulling a cushion over his head.   
"Don't use my own words against me you bastard, that's foul play."   
"Guilty as charged. And it will continue if it has to." Warily, Crowley eyed him over the top of the pillow. Great, it didn't look like he was going to back down. (Usually the angel being stubborn was endearing, but it was considerably less so when it was aimed at him.)  
"Fine. Ever since yesterday I've been having all these weird intrusive thoughts and flashbacks out of the blue. Like I woke up just now not even knowing what was in these books, only that I had to find them. And honestly angel, it's freaking me out. Even the apocalypse didn't stress me out this much, and that was the literal end of the world." Out of all the things he could have said, Aziraphale didn't think it would have been anything like that. Though he supposed it made sense, with whatever Lucifer had done to him being messed with by Gabriel, maybe he was going to get all of his memories back. Going by the look on Crowley's face when he suggested that as a reason, he wasn't looking forward to it. Either way, he continued voicing his thoughts on the matter, explaining that the intrusive thoughts could just be him realising what he could do now he had access to his Heavenly powers again.  
"... You know I really hate it when you get all logical on me angel. Makes it very hard to stay mad at you"  
"I know dear. If it's any consolation it's incredibly hard being right all the time." Aziraphale laughed, dodging the cushion thrown in his direction by a now dramatically sulking demon. Who they both knew wasn't really sulking, not if his attempts not to laugh were anything to go by. "Seriously though dearest, you know I'm here for you, right? I messed up during the apocalypse, but I refuse to do that this time."  
"Yeah, yeah, I know angel. I've always known. You're not very subtle about these things." Rather hypocritical, coming from Anthony 'acts of service' Crowley, but Aziraphale wasn't about to argue, instead choosing to toss the cushion he'd thrown earlier back in the direction of the Demon and suggest dinner. He was sure wherever they went there'd be enough humans being, well themselves, to keep Crowley entertained for now. And if he used a little miracle to make sure the restaurant they opted for was incredibly busy that evening to increase the chance? That was between him and whoever looked over the miracle reports. (That is, if his were still included post Apoca-nope. Otherwise it was his little secret, which was fine by him) His plan to distract Crowley from himself for a little while had worked pretty well until the table next to them was occupied by a group of humans lamenting one of their exes. They seemed like such a sweet thing, still shaken by whatever had happened, and Aziraphale couldn't help but send a little miracle their way. (And yes, he was using neutral language for them regardless of their presentation, it simply wouldn't do to assume these things) Crowley paused, watching the group with concern and sent his own miracle to the ex, pushing his plate of barely touched food to Aziraphale and excusing himself when the group started talking about forgiveness and moving on.   
Both him and the human with the ex issues ended up outside in the smoking area to get away from it, their hands trembling so much they couldn't light up. Doing it for them, Crowley sighed, asking if they were okay.   
"Not really. You're the dude at the table over right? You probably heard enough to get the idea in there…it's just, I know they mean well but Jesus, the man was a wanker and my friends just expect me to drop everything and get over it, just like that. It's fucking frustrating." Crowley could feel the stress and tension coming off them in waves. Much like Aziraphale had his sixth sense for love and positive emotions, Crowley could sense hatred and negative emotions. (Useful for work, not so much in day to day life, usually more of a sad reminder how little humans needed him to interfere, because they were plenty capable of tempting themselves to lust and rage and violence on their own.) "... Sorry man, you only came out for a fag and I'm just bitching to you."   
"Nah, you're good. I get it, this idea of having to forgive people is absolute bullshit. Stay fucking mad, hold grudges. Don't let people bully you into accepting things that aren't right, or backing down to be seen as the 'bigger person'. You're worth more than that." Crowley quite enjoyed this smoking habit, even if it was terrible for them, purely because for some reason a lot of humans seemed to treat smoking areas as informal therapy groups. Smoking areas and women's bathrooms anywhere alcohol was served, they were the places to throw out support and advice and no one would question it. The pair of them stayed outside talking for a while, the human (Jax, they'd introduced themselves as) turning out to be quite good company. Even if they did hit a little close to home with some of their flippant remarks. By the time they both headed back inside Crowley felt like their little cigarette break had been as therapeutic for him as it had been Jax. Judging by Jax's friends reactions maybe it hadn't been that little a break, but Jax and Crowley both felt better now so Crowley let the teasing about being worried Jax had run away with the hot red-head slide, and Jax just laughed and went with it. Crowley may or may not have sent a drink to them to stir the pot a little, but he figured Jax could use a drink and the playful teasing from the others was as good a distraction from their thoughts as any.   
"Group therapy work out for you?" Aziraphale was well aware of the phenomenon that was the smoking area, glad that it always seemed to work its magic on Crowley as much as whatever human he was talking to at the time, smiling when Crowley nodded, kidnapping the biscuit from his post dessert coffee.   
"Don't you look so smug, I know you miracled this place busy in the hope humans would happen… Wanna call it a night? I have plants to shout at and I know you've been nursing that same book for three days, which for you is unheard of." Reluctantly Aziraphale agreed, settling the tab and following Crowley to the Bentley. He was loathe to admit it but he'd rather enjoyed having Crowley around the last couple of days, despite the circumstances. He'd have to try and persuade him to stay again sometime soon without any of this miracle related stress stuff, he decided as he got out of the car at his bookshop.   
"Oi angel…. Thanks for uh" Crowley trailed off, waving his hand in a vague motion to everything, clearly embarrassed.   
"Don't mention it. I'll see you tomorrow at the park?" Waiting until Crowley had nodded and driven off, Aziraphale headed back to his neglected book. Crowley was right, it simply wasn't acceptable that a single book was taking him so long when he had so many more to get through, so he settled down to read until it was time to head to the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me the fag break therapy is universal, because it is the sweetest thing. I quit smoking but always end up out there still. Or did before the lockdown anyway.


	4. Making amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gives Michael a chance and it goes well???

To Aziraphale's surprise Crowley beat him to the park and was mid staring contest with a duck when he arrived. (Did the duck know it was rigged? Snakes don't blink. Do ducks blink? He'd never thought to look, he tried not to question them after Crowley's whole 'do ducks have ears' statement that he still pondered occasionally) Crowley broke it off to smile at him, offering him a tea in one of those horrendous take out cups, and the duck waddled away, seemingly accepting a truce. Opting to just remove the someone-awful plastic lid rather than fight what was definitely one of Crowley's inventions (Who else would think take out cups were a good idea? They were the kind of low level but incredibly annoying inconvenience that the Demon loved) Aziraphale looked over the demon in question, noting that he seemed considerably better today than he had been.   
"I do hope you didn't terrify those poor plants too much. I don't know why you insist on putting the fear of yourself into them."  
"Pff, they're just over reacting, they don't get anything they don't deserve...you finish that book finally? Felt kinda bad I'd kept you from it."   
"Oh yes, it had such a delightful ending. I'll have to read it to you sometime" Aziraphale trailed off, rambling about the book and how quaint the story was, enthusing about human optimism. Somehow that led to a debate on if historic non fiction that had since been disproved still counted as non fiction. ("it's all about context angel, if it's no longer fact it no longer counts" "but we simply can't discredit the authors work like that, if it was written as non fiction it should stay that way") As their debates about things like this often did, it ran on far longer than either of them expected, having taken several detours to other topics (including, but not limited to the extent of some of the writers they'd met being wankers, the disproportionate amount of male writing being taken as the gospel truth in history, and if biased work still counted as factual when contradictory facts were omitted) before they got back on track. They still hadn't reached a clear conclusion when Crowley checked his phone and cursed.   
"Shit, sorry angel. I'm meant to be Upstairs like five minutes ago. I'll see you r-"   
"-What do you mean you're meant to be Upstairs?" Aziraphale would have been less shocked if Crowley had told him he was meant to be off burning orphanages or something equally hideous and endorsed by Hell.   
"I uh… might have agreed to meet Michael? I was a bit of a dick and didn't give them much of a chance yesterday"   
"Oh… I assume you'll be swinging by the bookshop when you're done?" Crowley agreed, understanding it as Aziraphale speak for 'come back and let me fuss because I'll be worried' (He did it quite a lot whenever Crowley did anything he deemed reckless or dangerous, and at this point it was an unspoken agreement between them that if Crowley was going to these things, he had to check in with him afterwards to put his mind at ease.) Aziraphale wasn't happy about it but he let him go, returning to his shop to fret. (At least, he supposed, Michael was the more reasonable Archangel, and they seemed to be more genuine with Crowley than Gabriel had. Not that this eased his mind much, but it was better than nothing)   
He might have abused a miracle or two to manage it but Cowley managed to make it to meet Michael just about on time, apologising for cutting it fine. Michael seemed more amused than annoyed, leading Crowley along.   
"I thought you might be late when Aziraphale started praying for you again… Though judging by your expression you didn't know he was in the habit of doing that." Crowley waved it off, opting to deal with that later when he saw Aziraphale and Michael took the hint and didn't mention it any further. Right now he was more worried about being Upstairs, following Michael along and drawing a lot of attention just with his presence alone. He guessed that neither Archangel had mentioned anything, or warned anyone to expect a demon joining them. Luckily Michael's presence was enough to stop any trouble starting, but honestly he wasn't sure what he'd do if they left him unsupervised.   
"You know, I am sorry for last time. I mean I stand by what I said, but I still should have given you and Gabriel a chance to talk."  
"Don't worry about it. You're here now, and I think your little outburst is going to lead to some positive change up here. Gabriel and I looked into what you'd said, and the numbers aren't good. Clearly our current methods aren't working the way we'd expected them to."   
"Humans are good that way, always doing the unexpected." Distracted, Crowley was more preoccupied looking around Heaven and seeing what had changed from his memories, and what was still the same. (Large open spaces full of light and a sense of calm? Check. Strangely clinical feeling and a much more minimal and structured layout? That was new) So distracted in fact that he didn't even register where they'd ended up until Michael paused in the doorway, holding the door for him. "My old room is still here?" (By room he meant where he used to store his things and occasionally duck away from everyone for some peace and quiet, not a bedroom in the sense that humans have. What would an Archangel have needed a bedroom for?) Surprised, he walked in, looking around to find it was the only part of Heaven he'd seen so far that was completely unchanged, running his fingers over the snakes entwined around his staff that was still propped haphazardly against the wall where he'd thrown it in his haste to find the other Archangels. "... Part of me expected it to have ended up as storage or something." Pleased by his reaction, Michael shook their head and graciously gave him a moment to collect himself.   
"It probably sounds stupid but we kept hoping you'd come back so we left it as it was…. Quite a few angels gave up after we discovered what became of the Fallen but no one could bring themselves to get rid of your things." Crowley sat on his old desk, flicking through some of his designs for stars and nebulae, nudging the chair out for Michael who accepted and sat with him.   
"For what it's worth I wouldn't have blamed anyone. You were always so much more practical than I was."   
"You did set the bar low" Fake hurt, Crowley gasped dramatically, making Michael smile.   
"You know I don't think I'll ever come back permanently, but I would like to see everyone. Though it might take a while to get along with Gabriel again… I do believe he's sorry for what he did, but it doesn't mean I'll accept his half-assed apology" Curious, Michael made a motion to continue, unsure why he'd reject an apology if he thought it was genuine. Like they'd said, Crowley had always been the most emotionally driven of the Archangels, but it usually came from a place they could understand if they prompted him to explain, and they were hoping that was still the case. (They'd only just found him again, they'd be Damned if they let some misunderstanding put another 6000 odd years between them) "It just… It worries me that Gabe thinks he can treat people that way. If it didn't come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn't have even considered how invasive it was, right? … He's probably been doing stuff like this for years, and I know us lot Downstairs can be twats, but there's a line, you know? I don't want to forgive that behaviour only for him to do something similar to someone else" Michael thought for a moment before agreeing that would be a problem, unsure if they should be surprised or not that Crowley didn't seem to have changed much. (Aside from the obvious Demon thing, but now they were looking at him they really should have put two and two together years ago.) Even the appearance he favoured hadn't changed drastically, and admittedly his eyes were more snake-like than their previous gold, and the sigil on the side of his face had changed somewhat, but otherwise all his key features had stayed the same. More worryingly though, he was still more concerned about any potential risk to others than to himself apparently, empathetic to a fault, and still wearing his heart on his sleeve. Michael couldn't say that was a bad thing though, they'd always been protective of Crowley before his sort of Fall for those exact reasons, admiring his ability to express himself so freely and use it for others. When they mentioned this Crowley looked genuinely floored, taking a moment to process what they'd said with some strange strangled noise.  
"...you look like you need some time to think and Aziraphale's praying to me on your behalf is getting rather insistent. (At this point they weren't sure if he was even doing it intentionally or not. A lot of his prayers that came through seemed more like errant thoughts that he just didn't think to not send Upwards) How about I leave you to it and make sure everyone knows you're free to come and go as you please?" Crowley nodded, thanking them as they left to shoo away the curious angels that had ventured down the halls to see what was going on with the Serpent of Eden and the Archangel Michael after seeing them headed for Raphael's old study. Concerned that Aziraphale was going to stress himself out too much, he sent him a message assuring him he was fine and that he was going to collect some things and then come visit him. Looking over his old belongings he decided that he had every right to take his sketchbooks to continue filling up, wistfully thinking back to before his serpent's curse made it difficult to read, write, and draw the way he'd used to. (Not that it stopped him, he was just slower and more easily annoyed with the things now.) On his way back he noted that whilst he was being watched with suspicion, Michael had clearly done as promised and no one bothered the stray Demon, as much as it looked like it pained some of them to be civil. Up in Heaven the intrusive thoughts seemed more frequent, and his memories of his time as Raphael clearer, and next thing he knew Crowley was on his way to the hall where he'd been dragged from Heaven. Thanking whoever for it being empty, he slipped inside to look around, wondering if there was anything to jog his memories. (So far it seemed like a good idea, he had the vague sense that other than the fallout with Lucifer and the war, most of them would be pretty pleasant, and probably useful to help him learn what he could do now. Contrary to popular belief ethereal and occult beings didn't just appear with fully formed powers, it took work to hone them and discover their limits, and Crowley didn't much fancy doing that all over again. Who knows the damage he could cause accidentally underestimating an Archangel's power?) He took a moment to pray to Her, properly this time, not his usual fuck you to Upstairs and Her plans, or the odd question he'd unthinkingly sent Her way over the years. Downstairs probably wouldn't approve but he'd always found praying to be strangely therapeutic once he'd realised She wasn't answering. It was a good way to vent and clear his head with no interference, as well as being incredibly calming to just contemplate and tune out his surroundings. He probably tuned them out too well, unaware that he had an audience until he turned to leave and saw a few angels watching from the entrance. Most of them looked entirely baffled, and Crowley really didn't want to deal with that so he snapped his fingers and vanished from Heaven, reappearing in the bookshop and unintentionally startling Aziraphale into dropping his current book. (Not that he'd been able to concentrate on it very well but it had been better than just sitting and worrying about Crowley and doing nothing) After the initial shock had worn off Aziraphale pulled him into a hug, holding him a little tighter and for a little longer than was strictly necessary. Laughing, Crowley returned the gesture, assuring him he was fine and that nothing had happened Upstairs for him to worry about. Unbeknownst to either of them, Upstairs was the least of their problems. Beelzebub had noticed something changing on Earth, and concerned it meant the scales were tipping in Heaven's favour, had sent several demons to go investigate. All of them had been given strict instructions to find the cause of the strange energy and return to them with information. (Launching any kind of attack was a laughable idea, who sends their demons in unprepared? The first and last time they'd gone into anything without looking into it had ended with Crowley in a bath of Holy water and traumatising half of Hell.) Whilst Beelzebub had been very clear about their instructions, it didn't mean they trusted the demons not to try starting anything. (Hardly any of Downstairs trusted each other with anything at all. Beelzebub had just sighed and picked some of the smarter ones to go in the hope that if they did do anything of their own accord, they'd at least not be entirely stupid about it and cause more trouble.) Beelzebub had thought that unfortunately for whatever caused this strange power imbalance, the whole Apoca-nope thing meant a lot of Downstairs was out for blood. Especially Crowley's and they swore to Satan if he was behind this there was going to be hell to pay, regardless of their deal to leave him alone. Though with that in mind, they belatedly realised that perhaps they shouldn't have sent Hastur, who had a bit of a personal vendetta going on with Crowley. Who was also currently making his way to the bookshop, already sure that anything strange happening up here could be pinned on Crowley and his angel, and he could definitely use that to his advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so does anyone else think praying must be pain in the ass for angels to deal with? I always assumed people's prayers to them just like... Popped up in their head? And that Aziraphale is on a few angels blocked lists because he just unintentionally sends them thoughts so often. Going to a church school then ending up in this fandom has given me so many thoughts. So many.


	5. I think we're done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur interferes, Beelzebub is done, and Hell in general makes questionable choices.

Crowley was busy using Aziraphale's lap as a pillow whilst he lounged and continued their debates from the park, when Aziraphale suddenly shuushed him, seeming concerned.   
"Is it just me or does something smell like Hell?" Confused, Crowley sniffed himself and got up to let his wings out and check those. "Don't be ridiculous, it's not you. Even before you sorted your wings it was never that bad." (For a Demon Crowley's personal hygiene had always been impeccable, and even when he'd visited Hell he'd usually managed to get rid of the smell before coming to meet Aziraphale. He didn't realise how thankful he was for this until he visited Downstairs in his place during their trials and saw how a lot of the other demons presented themselves, and how the lingering scent of Hell had been almost impossible to shake after he'd left.) Relieved, Crowley tucked his wings back away before flicking his tongue out briefly to see if he could smell it too.   
"Oh, it's just Hastur" Both of them just shrugged and accepted it before actually realising what he'd said and practically diving to the door to put wards up in case he decided to swing by. "Why the fuck is he up here? If that's who my replacement is I'm going back downstairs to fight Beelzebub myself."   
"Considering the situation, wouldn't that be the best case scenario right now though?" Aziraphale peered through the glass panel of the door, looking for any other demons that might have joined Hastur.   
"And what situation would that be?" Turns out their brief delay setting the wards had given Hastur enough time to snap himself into the shop, looking hugely amused at the way they both tensed up when they heard him.   
"One that has nothing to do with Downstairs so go fuck yourself" Immediately on the defensive, Crowley was between Aziraphale and Hastur before Aziraphale could even turn away from the door, hissing threateningly. Not that Hastur paid any attention, still thinking Crowley was the weaker lower level Demon he'd been passing as since his not quite Fall. (The holy water thing was pretty unsettling but otherwise what threat was a stray snake to a Duke of Hell? The angel seemed fairly harmless too considering how long he'd let Crowley get away with his demonic work. If the angel couldn't deal with someone like Crowley then he had no hope against a Duke of hell.)   
"Are you sure about that? Convenient that you two have a problem the same time Beelzebub sends us out scouting." The 'us' worried the pair of them, wondering just how many demons had been sent up to Earth, and what they were up to if they weren't here with Hastur.   
"It depends on what you're looking for. Could be entirely unrelated, not like there's a limit on simultaneous problems." Going by the look Hastur gave him for piping up, Aziraphale assumed he couldn't care less, he was just out to pin whatever was bothering Hell on Crowley as revenge for Holy watering Ligur. Annoyed that this particular Demon seemed to exist purely to cause trouble for Crowley (and by extension him, but his poor Serpent was the priority here) Aziraphale decided there was no way he was letting Hastur go without making it very clear he was not to return. As usual for Crowley and Aziraphale, they were both on the same page (as in they both just wanted Hastur gone as quickly and with as little drama as possible) and in the blink of an eye they'd both miracled their weapons of choice to hand. Aziraphale hadn't chosen his flaming sword because in such an enclosed space the risk of accidentally burning Crowley as well as Hastur was too high, but that didn't mean the sword he now had would be any less dangerous to Hastur. Next to him Crowley had his staff in hand, hoping it counted as holy enough to do some damage when he swung it at Hastur. He'd never been particularly good at fighting so had learned pretty early on how to wield a staff to defend himself. (Turns out brains over brawn was a thing even for non humans, and whilst Crowley usually managed to end things without any physical conflict, sometimes it was unavoidable.) The added reach meant he could keep more distance between him and his opponent, and even better, it turned out an Archangel's staff left to soak up 6000 years of Heavenly energy was holy enough that it did a pretty good job against Hastur, even if he had blocked it just in time. There was a sizzling sound where the staff came into contact with his arms, Hastur quickly backing away before the Holy burns spread. In shock that he'd just had a holy weapon used against him by a fellow Demon, Hastur looked at the burns on his forearms and then at the Demon before him, realising with a start he'd taken his eyes off the angel. Even if he did his best to deny it, Aziraphale had been created as a soldier and as soon as he'd seen Crowley create an opening he took it, plunging his sword through Hastur's shoulder and into the wall, effectively pinning him in place before he could turn and try to and defend himself. The sizzling sound made by the staff making contact had been bad enough, but this was much louder as the Holy blade essentially cauterised the wound it had caused, and Aziraphale could see Crowley's wince of sympathy when they realised that's what had happened. (Aziraphale was considerably more relieved than Crowley because a cauterised wound was a non bleeding one, and he didn't really enjoy the thought of having to clean Demon blood off of his books)  
"So, what has Beelzebub so concerned that they'd send you topside to bother us? I thought we'd both made it very clear we didn't want to be bothered." (In any other circumstance Crowley would have laughed at his angel being so polite after stabbing someone, but when Hell got involved it was usually hard to see the funny side of things.)   
"Why the fuck would I tell you traitors anything?" Crowley had to hand it to him, Hastur was being remarkably stubborn for someone facing down two beings with holy weapons and was slowly being poisoned by said holiness, in what would be in any other situation a pretty impressive display of spite.   
"Because it's the least you could do after breaking in to cause trouble? Because both of us have holy weapons and you're pretty useless against anything blessed? How long have you got Hastur, I think I can make a pretty convincing case." Recognising defeat Hastur glared at Crowley, explaining the bare minimum to them when Crowley approached, not wanting the staff to get involved again too. Even stuck as he was, he didn't miss the way Crowley looked to Aziraphale at the mention of a strange influx of power that Beelzebub couldn't clearly place as occult or ethereal.   
"If that's all, then I think we're done here. Do have a safe trip back Downstairs." None too gently, Aziraphale dislodged his sword from where it was embedded in the wall and snapped his fingers, opening the floor and letting him fall back to Hell. He landed in a crumpled heap in the throne room, burning his hands as he tried to dislodge the sword from his shoulder now he had the chance. Beelzebub took one look at him and sighed, burying their face in their hands. On their orders a pair of demons arrived to help Hastur to his feet, holding him steady whilst Beelzebub spoke.   
"You had one job Hastur, why would you go and antagonise the rogue snake and his pet angel instead of doing as you were asked?" Deciding to just ignore the question rather than outright lie to them, Hastur changed the subject.   
"Whatever is going on, they know more about it than we do. Crowley's swinging around holy weapons now, and that angel of his is even more trigger happy than usual, they're definitely hiding something." Great, that was news Beelzebub definitely did not want to hear. Dismissing Hastur and the demons helping him, they slumped in their throne dejectedly, pen and paper appearing in the air next to them.   
Back in the bookshop Aziraphale and Crowley stood in stunned silence, staring at the still smoking patch of floor that Hastur had just descended through.   
"...wow. Remind me never to get on your bad side angel" teased Crowley, using a miracle to clean up Hastur's blood and repair the wall. After a moment's consideration he also decided to tuck his staff away on the same plane he kept his wings hidden in instead of sending it back Upstairs, figuring it meant easier access if he needed it again.   
"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but what the-what just happened?" Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hands to check he hadn't burned himself as well, amazed but strangely unsurprised that they were fine.  
"I borrowed my staff from Upstairs? I figured if being an Archangel's staff wasn't enough to make it a holy weapon it's been in Heaven long enough to do damage to a demon." Exasperated, Aziraphale released his hands and miracled himself up what he hoped would be a calming cup of tea, scolding him for being so reckless. Crowley ignored it as he always did when things worked out, humming as he rummaged in Aziraphale's cupboards to dig out the candles he left there to cover the lingering scent of Hell. Whenever you opened the floor to go back down it always wafted up the lovely scent of sulphur and despair that was everywhere Downstairs, and Crowley didn't much care for that in the bookshop.  
"Are you even listening to me Crowley?"   
"...Yes?" Aziraphale's expression said he didn't buy it one bit, but he just downed his tea and waved him away rather than arguing. "What do you think has Beelz so wound up they're sending demons topside? I haven't noticed anything unusual enough to warrant that lately."   
"No idea dearest. It's almost like an Archangel regaining his powers could be unusual enough to warrant Beelzebub looking into it… Though actually, maybe that's not the problem, surely even Hastur would have left you alone if you being an Archangel was common knowledge." Crowley shrugged, having no idea either, still slightly thrown by Aziraphale snapping at him for asking what he thought was a perfectly reasonable question.   
"Dunno, he's pretty persistent... If it's not me do you think whatever the strange power he mentioned is something to worry about? Maybe we could just ask Beelz directly what's shaken them and get more information. What's the worst that could happen?" Aziraphale stared at him like he'd grown a second head, trying to work out how he'd managed this whole time without too many discorporations with an attitude like that. (Actually, when he was thinking about it Aziraphale was fairly certain he'd been discorporated more. Crowley had considerably more near discorporation experiences than he had, but somehow always managed to pull through. Maybe Demon corporations were just made to take more punishment than the average angel one? It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on too much.) "... What? I'd rather deal with Beelz than Gabriel. And I'd really rather not have whatever is going on just sprung on us. I've had enough of that with all of this Raphael stuff."   
"That is a good point. Though if it is the 'Raphael stuff' as you so eloquently put it we still have to deal with it. That probably counts as a strange power, and we've never even thought to question if you're more occult or ethereal now. You've got to have thrown off some balance somewhere with all this" Crowley groaned dramatically, laying over Aziraphale's lap.   
"Angel no, we're not having this conversation." Aziraphale ignored the theatrics, removing Crowley's glasses and tucking them into his chest pocket before he jabbed one of them with the frames during his moment of whining. (He'd always thought whenever Crowley got dramatic that he should try acting, even if his only practise was being ridiculous and melodramatic to distract from whatever he didn't want to deal with at the time.)   
"Angel yes, we absolutely are. Like you said, we need to know what's going on. If it's not you we need to find out what it is. And if it is you dear boy then we still have a lot to take into consideration" Crowley's expression suggested he didn't agree but as always, he relented and let Aziraphale talk. (He might suggest otherwise, but Crowley usually realised when the angel was right and he couldn't avoid something. It didn't mean he was happy about it, but some things you couldn't just sweep under the rug.)   
"If we're doing this we're going back to mine, you've had both sides drop in practically back to back. If anyone comes looking for us they'll probably come here first." As much as it pained him to agree Aziraphale knew he was right, asking the bookshop nicely with a miracle or two as they left if it would let him know about any non human visitors. Crowley still paused to strengthen the wards around the building in case, not trusting Hell to leave them alone after they almost killed Hastur. (Or actually killed him, it depends on if he'd been able to get the sword out before the Holy energy from the blade did him in. Crowley couldn't care less either way, but he knew a lot of Downstairs would) As soon as they got to his apartment they did the same for there as well, deciding better to be safe than sorry. Aziraphale went ahead into the flat whilst he paused for a moment, double checking the wards and wondering if it was worth going somewhere else entirely for a little bit. A little bit of escapism to buy himself time to unpack everything that had happened over the last few days and work out what to do with it couldn't hurt, right? He never did get to decide, distracted by Aziraphale calling for him, sounding concerned. Immediately he rushed to his side, realising with a sense of dread what had worried the angel. Sitting on his desk like it had every right to be there, was a summons from Hell. More specifically, from Beelzebub themselves.   
"... I did say we could try talking to them?" Aziraphale clearly didn't appreciate his attempt to lighten the mood, snatching the envelope off the desk and shoving it at him, his fingers smarting from contact with something from Hell. Before he could even think to complain about it Crowley had already done something to stop it, even whilst opening the letter and mentally preparing excuses. "Huh, I don't think any of this has got back to Lucifer yet or I think this would be a whole lot more aggressive... It's actually pretty polite, you must have really put the fear of me into them at the trial." (Clearly not enough if they were still contacting him, but Aziraphale would take it for now. He could always go back and do worse if he had to.)  
"Oh, that's actually rather good to know. I don't think we're quite up to facing the devil himself at the moment." (Though reading the letter over Crowley's shoulder, he wasn't sure he and Crowley had the same idea of what an acceptable level of aggression in a letter was. He hated to think what Hell's equivalent of a rude note would be) Crowley laughed, agreeing.   
"Never thought a summons from Beelz would be the preferable option. Fancy coming with? It could be a laugh."  
"Could be a laugh? You are absolutely insufferable. Of course I'm coming with you, I could hardly let you take that flippant attitude downstairs unsupervised."  
"Well come on then, no time like the present." And with that Crowley took Aziraphale's hand, snapping his fingers and transporting them both straight to Hell.


	6. Buying time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub has no time for this and Heaven helps out

As soon as they arrived all Hell broke loose. (Not literally of course but Crowley had always enjoyed the phrases humans came up with and that one seemed right for the chaos going on around them.) Ignoring the commotion, he pushed the large double doors open and sauntered into one of the busier areas, relishing in the way the demons around him quickly made way. If he'd known all it took to get some personal space down here was to swap out with the angel for a bit he would have suggested it millenia ago. Beside him Aziraphale sighed at his behaviour, smiling and innocently waving at some of the demons, who practically flattened themselves against the wall as they backed away from him.  
"Don't mind them angel. You're not that scary" The passing demon Crowley beckoned over to ask where to find Beelzebub seemed to have different thoughts on the matter, hesitant to be near either of them. Apparently word had got round already about Hastur's run in with them both, so rather than giving Crowley the snark he'd come to expect from other demons, he actually got an answer.  
"I'd rather hope not. All I did was say hello, don't these demons have any manners?" Pouting, Aziraphale followed Crowley along, huffing and crossing his arms. (Aziraphale had spent a lot of time curating his friendly and approachable appearance to put the humans at ease, and was rather disgruntled that it apparently wasn't working.)  
"I think it's more the angel thing scaring them down here, we both know humans love you. You are, and I quote, 'shaped like a friend' according to Adam and the Them." Pleased Aziraphale seemed cheered up by that knowledge, Crowley swung open the door to Beelzebub's private office with a flourish. "Beelz buddy, how have you been?" Beelzebub just stared at him before shaking their head and putting aside what they were working on.  
"Shut up, sit down, and never call me 'Beelz' or 'buddy' again." Grinning, Crowley did as he was told, delighted he'd already got under their skin. "You too angel." Aziraphale politely did as asked, even if Beelzebub calling him angel had seemed considerably more like a slur than whenever Crowley said it. (Probably because it had been meant that way but Aziraphale wanted to give Beelzebub the benefit of doubt.) "I suppose you're expecting an apology for Hastur showing up. He had been instructed not to bother you but he's still pissed about well, just about everything you've done since Eden." Crowley shook his head, already having assumed it was personal rather than on Beelzebub's orders. In the past to make Hell more bearable he'd spent as much time as possible winding up the Duke and had been expecting him to do something about it for a while now. Even before melting Ligur, Hastur had been out for blood and this seemed like the perfect excuse. "Good, because it's not happening. He can deal with his own mess when he's healed." Aziraphale wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, having only met Beelzebub briefly at the trial, but this no nonsense Demon really didn't mince their words did they? (Maybe what humans said about short people being full of rage had some truth to it, he wasn't sure. Would a human expression like that even apply to demons?)  
"So, I hate to be that guy but what happened to us being left alone? Has something happened?"  
"Don't start, I don't want you here either but there's been a lot of unexplained energy around on Earth lately and as the only two full time residents I assume you have answers."  
"Terribly sorry but I don't suppose you could elaborate at all? That's incredibly vague." Rolling their eyes, Beelzebub explained everything to them about the strange increase of energy that appeared from nowhere a few days ago. Most annoyingly for them it seemed to yo-yo between the occult and ethereal, and was never particularly constant in terms of strength, so it was almost impossible to try and locate and deal with from Downstairs.  
"How would you even deal with something like that? Just rock up when you find it and hope for the best?" Uncomfortably realising it was almost definitely his fault, Crowley tried to deflect and steer the conversation in a different direction.  
"Well the only other time there's been anything like this was around the Fall, so I'm kind of hoping it's a falling angel. Could be useful if not entertaining."  
"Oh, um we haven't heard anything about that but I suppose we could always find out from Upstairs for you. I'm ashamed to say we hadn't really noticed anything."  
"Why am I not surprised? I'm only looking into this before Lucifer gets wind of it and decides to emerge from his sulking to sort it himself, the micromanaging arsehole." Crowley laughed, unable to help himself. He hadn't even thought about Lucifer's reaction to the failed Apocalypse, but now he had, he was even happier he'd helped avert it.  
"Is good old Luci seriously still sulking over the Apocalypse not happening?" The look Beelzebub gave him for referring to The Unholy One as 'good old Luci' almost made the trip to Hell worth it, and thankfully they decided they had better things to do that chew out Crowley for his lack of manners.  
"I'm not complaining. It's something about his brother and his kid, I don't know. I tend to tune him out a lot, otherwise working with him ends up a bit like babysitting an entitled brat." Aziraphale didn't doubt that for one moment, or that Beelzebub would rather not work with him again, so he decided to take his chances on making a suggestion.  
"Why don't we help you look into this then? Like you said, we're the only full time residents on Earth, we might be able to get information you can't." Beelzebub didn't even have to say anything, suspicion written clearly across their face, so trying to play it cool and not come across too desperate, Aziraphale continued. "It's just well, it's in our best interests too isn't it? Whatever this is could do some serious damage from the sounds of things and the poor humans are so fragile. It would be rather pointless us averting the apocalypse for whatever this is to wreak havoc instead." Beelzebub stared them both down, weighing up the pros and cons of agreeing before going with it, done with dealing with the pair of them. Anyway, any offer that meant they could keep Lucifer out of their hair for longer was worth a shot, regardless of if it was from a pair of beings that came across as complete idiots most of the time.  
"Fine. Considering Crowley's track record what's the worst that could happen? A minor widespread nuisance?" The look they gave Crowley at that would have had a lesser Demon shaking in their seat, but as it was he only huffed, pouting about a lack of appreciation for his long term plans."Just keep me updated and try not to fuck anything up." With that they snapped their fingers, sending Crowley and Aziraphale back to Crowley's flat, both of them disorientated from being teleported so suddenly. As soon as the world stopped spinning Crowley had whipped round, grabbing Aziraphale's lapels and hissing in his face, fuming.  
"Angel just what the fuck was all that about?" Aziraphale just calmly put his hands over Crowley's, removing them from his jacket and brushing himself down.  
"Do be reasonable dear, I was buying us time. Now stop that and put those fangs away, it's very hard to talk to you when you're like this." Aziraphale staying so calm just wound Crowley up even more so he  
refused out of principle, even though he knew he should back down.  
"You know as well as I do that it's my fault and you're asking me to be reasonable? All we'll be doing is delaying the inevitable and pissing off Beelzebub in the process"  
"So you agree it bought us time?" Crowley glared at him before turning his head and refusing to answer. ".... Crowley look at me…please dearest?" When he still didn't get an answer Aziraphale took matters into his own hands, gently cupping his cheeks and turning his head back so they were facing each other. "I'm sorry for doing that without consulting you, and I know it's a risky move, but please believe me when I say I thought it was my best option to keep you safe." Crowley hesitated before leaning into his hands a little, seeming more defeated than angry.  
"...so you don't think I could do some serious damage to the poor fragile humans? Go wreak havoc?"  
"What? Oh no dear, I never meant a word of it. Of course you wouldn't do anything like that" Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a tight hug, refusing to let the poor serpent believe for one moment more that he was a threat to anyone.  
"You heard Beelz though…my powers are all over the place. What if I do something accidentally?"  
"Then we'll do whatever we can to fix things, though I highly doubt it'll come to that." Crowley pulled away long enough to rub his eyes under his glasses, sniffling slightly as he asked how he could be so sure. "Because I have faith in you. You've always had impeccable control over your powers, I don't see why that would change now. You're too good for that" Gently, he removed Crowley's glasses and offered him a handkerchief as a trade off, smiling at his half hearted protest at being called good.  
"...it's weird, today talking to Beelz, and seeing Hastur's face when my staff burned him...it's finally started to sink in how fucked up this all is." Aziraphale hummed in agreement, wiping Crowley's tears away when he made no effort to do so himself. "Before I could kid myself it was just a bit of amnesia, but this is all so much and I don't know what to do about it." He looked so hurt and lost that Aziraphale was ready to march back to Hell and fight Lucifer himself for causing all of this. Rational thinking won out though, and instead he opted to focus on the poor Demon in front of him, trying to comfort him and assure him he didn't have to do anything about it.  
"None of this is your fault or your responsibility and it's not down to you to single-handedly fix it all."  
"I know, but between Heaven and Hell I don't think I have much choice… And anyway, I have-I've got you right?"  
"Always. Heaven has a strict no returns policy on Principalities I'm afraid." Crowley rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, smiling a little.  
"What a terrible business choice"  
"I blame the management….did you want to try to sleep? It's been quite the day and it seemed to help last time." Reluctantly, Crowley agreed on the condition Aziraphale would stay, not trusting the safety of the bookshop. Eventually persuaded Aziraphale wasn't going anywhere, he slunk off to his room, telling him to make himself at home. Aziraphale waited until he'd heard the door click closed behind Crowley before sinking down into his throne, burying his face in his hands and sobbing out of sheer frustration at the situation, wishing there was more he could do about literally any of it. However long it was before Beelzebub got impatient or Lucifer got involved, he was terrified it wouldn't be long enough for them to do anything. They weren't even sure of what these changes meant for Crowley, so relying on him to pull some miracle out of the bag like he usually did was out of the question. Though if he managed to stop time before, even exhausted from his burning Bentley ride, who knows what he could do now. (A rhetorical question obviously, since neither of them had any idea, only that it was a mildly terrifying concept.) Desperate for any distraction, Aziraphale decided to sit and try to plan, summoning books from his bookshop on anything and everything that could be relevant. At this point he was even prepared to go to Tadfield and round up the team that had helped foil the Apocalypse just for any kind of input that wasn't his anxious rambling or Crowley's stressed crying. He was fairly certain that Adam was just an ordinary boy at this point though, and clever as she was he wasn't convinced Anathema's witchcraft would come in handy against the literal devil so he talked himself out of getting any of them involved. At this point anything short of God herself probably wouldn't be much of a comfort until it was over with, and She'd been absent for years. Did She even know Raphael had been pulled from Heaven to become Crowley? Was it part of Her plan, knowing he'd do his best to protect Her creation? He shook himself from his thoughts and returned to his books, feeling uncomfortable questioning Her and even more uncomfortable with the idea that any of this could have been part of Her plan. He was so wrapped up in his reading that he barely even noticed when Crowley joined him, cuddling into his side and dozing back off. Subconsciously he must have agreed that the Demon had the right idea, ending up falling asleep as well, the pair of them waking with a start at the tell-tale 'pop' of something being miracled into existence. Crowley scrambled to his feet, following the noise and finding a box clearly sent from Upstairs. Baffled, he took it back to Aziraphale, who was still groggy and trying to work out what was going on. (Turns out waking up suddenly was a very confusing experience for a being that barely slept. Aziraphale couldn't say he was much of a fan.) Once he registered the box in Crowley's hands though he pulled himself together, joining the Demon in nosing through the contents once he opened it. Crowley pulled out the note tucked into the box, frowning at it for a moment before passing it to Aziraphale to read. (He absolutely hated cursive and had no intention of putting himself through trying to read that at this time of day.)  
"Oh, it's from Gabriel and Michael. They thought this could help us out, and want to let you know they're there to help if you need them….is getting the Archangels involved a good idea though? Hell could take it as a threat." (Aziraphale decided against mentioning that they'd mentioned sending it after his accidental prayers had concerned them and his staff had vanished, though if they'd put it in a letter to Crowley did that mean he already knew? He was preemptively embarrassed about having that particular conversation.)  
"One of the reasons I haven't gone back Upstairs to ask for advice. I have no idea how much I can trust them and Hell will take any excuse for a fight… Well Lucifer will, if it's down to Beelzebub they'll probably just do whatever is most efficient. Since they're running things at the moment we might get away with it." Unceremoniously Crowley just tipped up the box to see what was in it now he knew where it was from, making an excited noise and grabbing a necklace that had fallen and looking it over."I recognise this, couldn't tell you why though." (The thing that was annoying Crowley most about everything going on was the patchiness of the memories he was getting back. He could remember some things perfectly, only bits of others and some stuff just drew a blank even though he knew he recognised it. More was coming back to him but he was aware it would probably take longer than they had for him to recall everything.) Confused, Aziraphale took it to assess as well, vaguely recognising the twisted metal pendant and the faint hum of power from it.  
"It does seem very you. It's a strange thing to send in these circumstances though, is whatever it does related?" Crowley shrugged, agreeing that it must be but he couldn't remember how, but turned and lifted his hair for Aziraphale to put it on him anyway. Might as well give it a go, at best it would be useful, at worst he had a new necklace. As Aziraphale fastened the clasp he gasped, excitedly undoing it and repeating just to be sure."My dear boy I think this is exactly what we needed to appease Beelzebub. Whenever you're wearing it I can't sense any power from you." Delighted, Crowley flopped back onto Aziraphale's lap, grinning up at him.  
"There's that sorted for now then. Got any weird books we can blame the humans for messing with and causing it instead? Beelz doesn't care enough for humans to look into it and we've got to explain things going back to normal somehow."  
"I believe so. Back to the bookshop to find something suitable and make up a story so we're on the same page?" He didn't really want to move, perfectly content with sitting and running his fingers through Crowley's hair whilst the Demon laid on him, but he supposed they had to be somewhat productive. Crowley seemed to share the sentiment, having practically melted into his lap and looking more relaxed than he had since this whole thing started.  
"Hmm, give it five? I'm not exactly known for being prompt with things Downstairs, they'll question it if I look like I'm being productive." Amused, Aziraphale agreed, thinking yet again how lucky he was that Crowley was the Demon sent topside. Which other demons would have openly messed with their bosses and procrastinated doing Evil, (or attempting Evil anyway. Crowley had always been a pretty terrible Demon and Aziraphale loved him for it) all whilst encouraging the humans and Aziraphale to enjoy themselves? From his brief trips Downstairs, Aziraphale could pretty confidently say he didn't think there were any others. Eventually he relented and encouraged Crowley to get up, deciding they better get a move on. They'd been lucky so far and he didn't want to push it. He wanted to ask Beelzebub to come topside and meet them both instead of having them go down to Hell, but didn't see it going down well if he kept them waiting. When he suggested it to Crowley he agreed to arrange it with Beelzebub once they'd got their stories straight, glad they could get Hell off their backs so quickly. As long as Lucifer continued sulking until it was done and the pair of them were well out of the way, Crowley thought they had a pretty good chance of getting away with it Downstairs and that they'd go back to ignoring his existence. (Hastur aside anyway, but he was going to be out of action for a while so he wasn't particularly worrying for now.) Saying that, by the time Crowley and Aziraphale got back to the bookshop with the intention of going through his books, Crowley was full of dread, like his occult senses were screaming a warning at him.


	7. Lessons learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel tries to help and our ineffable idiots make living plans.

Trying and failing to work out what it could be, Crowley didn't think to mention it until he noticed the flies buzzing past, swinging the door open and groaning when he realised it probably had been something to do with Beelzebub and Gabriel, who were currently mid argument and hadn't noticed them arrive yet. Unimpressed, Aziraphale decided he was going to have words with his bookshop once they'd gone about the lack of a warning, clearing his throat to get their attention.   
"Not to interrupt but can we help you?" The pair of them stopped but the tension in the room was still stifling. (Aziraphale half wondered if Crowley had been right when he'd been joking about those two just needing to get over themselves and hook up.) Beelzebub looked relieved for the interruption as it shut Gabriel up, whilst Gabriel was just annoyed he'd been interrupted whilst clearly winning the argument. (He had most definitely not but Beelzebub was just going to let him have it instead of starting another one. They knew they were right anyway.)  
"It depends. Apparently you both have a lot of explaining to do." Crowley sighed, wanting to get this over with, not even surprised at this point that their plan had lasted all of five minutes.  
"....is any of this going to get back to Luci?" Beelzebub shrugged, cutting off Gabriel when he went to protest.   
"Might do if he asks, or if this goes completely tits up. I'm not going to go disturb him just to share this though if that's what you're worried about, you're not that important." Aziraphale supposed that was better than nothing, agreeing to tell Beelzebub whatever they wanted to know.   
"So what has Gabriel already told you? Or do you want us to start from the top?"   
"From the top, I tuned out a lot of what he was saying." The expression on Gabriel's face at that almost cheered Crowley up, even as he sat and summarised everything for Beelzebub, keeping it as brief and to the point as possible for them. Every now and then Aziraphale would join in with extra information or a bit Crowley had missed, but between them they covered pretty much all of it. When they'd finished Beelzebub mulled it over before turning to glare at Gabriel. "Why am I not surprised to find out you started this mess? What gives you the right to use your Grace like that on anyone, even if they are traitors?" Gabriel held his hands up in defense, not even able to condone his own behaviour in hindsight, apologising and trying to explain he thought it had been for the best at the time. Disgusted, Beelzebub ignored him and turned their attention back to Crowley and Aziraphale. "I'm going to pretend your dumbass plan had worked and tell Downstairs it was humans. However we will be dealing with this once I've got everyone Downstairs calmed down. Understood?"   
Realising it was probably the best case scenario that could have come from Beelzebub finding out, Crowley and Aziraphale both nodded. With that Beelzebub vanished, heading back to Hell to recall the demons that were still on Earth.  
"Sorry for all that, I had meant to let you know I'd be dropping by."   
"Well you're here now, what is it?" Aziraphale was rather annoyed that both sides just popped in and out of his shop whenever they felt like it and was a little grumpier than usual, but Gabriel just ignored it, smiling and cheerfully telling them he'd come to help. Immediately wary, even if Gabriel did seem sincere this time, Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged looks before asking what he had in mind.   
"Well going by Aziraphale's prayers and what Michael has said you're still struggling with your memories and concerned about your power right?" Warily, Crowley nodded, not sure where this was going. "Why don't I share what I know about using miracles on people's minds? It's the least I can do for you." Aziraphale resisted the urge to pull Crowley away from Gabriel and protect him, instead pointing out that he'd done enough damage sharing his knowledge on the subject. Gabriel did look hurt at that, apologising again." I didn't mean literally or repeating what I did before… It's just I've had to do it a lot, so I genuinely thought I could help somehow. We all know that usually messing with anyone's head is frowned upon so there's not much information about it available."  
"... If you know it's fucked up then why do it?"   
"Perk of being Her messenger, sometimes I have to erase or alter memories to keep Her plan moving." He didn't particularly sound like he thought of it as a perk, or that he wanted to do it at all, but Aziraphale and Crowley couldn't help but notice he hadn't specified if it had been human, ethereal or occult memories She'd had him mess with. (For all his posturing Gabriel could be a bit of a pushover if you knew how to ask too, Crowley remembered, so he wouldn't be surprised if some of it had been at the request of the other Archangels as well.) Crowley frowned but relented, agreeing to let Gabriel help. He seemed pretty surprised that Crowley had actually agreed, hesitating for a moment. "Oh right. Brilliant. Will you be joining us Aziraphale?" There was no chance he was leaving Gabriel unsupervised with this kind of thing so Aziraphale nodded, having every intention to step in if it seemed even slightly like Gabriel was doing more harm than good. Turns out when he wasn't being a twat Gabriel was actually pretty knowledgeable though, Aziraphale having to hope that Crowley understood some bits he himself hadn't quite grasped. (They'd been about corporations and human bodies so it was most likely. Aziraphale knew the bare minimum for corporation maintenance but never bothered to look into it more and was currently regretting that choice.) Though when Gabriel mentioned that physical contact helped you gauge the amount of power you were using on whoever you were touching, he suddenly realised it was probably why Gabriel was the most tactile of the Archangels and momentarily distracted himself trying to think of all the times Gabriel had done things like pat his shoulder or physically steer him from a room and if he could have done anything then. Crowley hadn't seemed to have the same worries, instead listening intently as Gabriel explained how crucial it was to gauge your powers correctly as too much could cause serious damage to whoever you were using it on. It wasn't until he heard Gabriel suggest a trial run that he jolted himself from his thoughts, protesting.   
"Just because you've explained your tricks doesn't mean you can do anything else to Crowley's memories, don't touch him." Both Gabriel and Crowley looked rather taken aback by his outburst, before Gabriel hesitantly pointed out that it would be Crowley doing it, not him."Oh… In that case dear would you like to try it on me?" This time it was Crowley's turn to protest, refusing in case he did something wrong. (His angel was a lot of things but stupid wasn't one, and the thought of accidentally doing anything to that brilliant mind of his was more terrifying than the literal almost end of the world had been) "Which is exactly why you can't test this on Gabriel. I trust you, but in the highly unlikely event anything goes wrong he's the only one who knows what to do" Aziraphale took his hand, looking smug when Crowley hesitantly accepted he was right, lacing their fingers together. Physical contact part.? Sorted.   
"Did you want me to remove a memory so Crowley could restore it? Removal is harder than restoring and I don't know if it's a good idea to throw Crowley in the deep end like that" He would have refused on principle but he couldn't miss the way Crowley tensed up at the mention of doing something even riskier to him so reluctantly gave in.   
"Only if I get to choose. Full offense Gabriel but I would really rather you weren't in my head." Gabriel shrugged, accepting that as fair and asking for a date that he could remove then. Off the top of his head Aziraphale chose some time in the 1600s, letting Gabriel touch his shoulder and wipe it from his memory. It really was the strangest sensation knowingly having your memories altered because he remembered suggesting the date, but nothing about the day that would have prompted him to choose it. And it wasn't like he couldn't remember anything, only incredibly vague ideas that he had in fact experienced that day but nothing important enough to remember, it was all very strange. Very clever as well though because if he hadn't been aware he would have just assumed he'd forgotten it as a boring day, there was nothing to set off any alarm bells. Once he'd taken a moment to try and think about it, satisfied he couldn't remember anything, he encouraged Crowley (who looked at this point quite sick with nerves, the poor thing) to try and restore it. Apparently the only thing stranger than having a memory removed was having one restored, and oh wow if this is what Crowley's been having on and off for the last few days no wonder he'd been on edge. It wasn't unlike that horrible jolt you experienced when you trip or startle, except with it came an uncomfortable sense of awareness as the missing memory made itself known again.   
"...I can only recall a couple of hours, do we try again?" Gabriel hummed and touched Aziraphale's shoulder again, checking before confirming.   
"He was just over cautious, if he uses a little more energy you should get the whole day back." A little less terrified looking this time, Crowley tried again. (It was nerve wracking stuff interfering with people's heads but it had actually been easier than he'd thought, he just needed to control the flow of energy he was using better. He wasn't sure but he thought he might still subconsciously be using the amount of power he'd been led to believe he had for years, old habits and all.) He still didn't quite manage it, so Gabriel returned the few hours Aziraphale was still missing and suggested trying it on him so he could work out where Crowley was going wrong. Crowley seemed less nervous about that, agreeing and setting a date for Gabriel to remove from his own memories in order for Crowley to attempt restoring them. This went on for a while, with Gabriel suggesting amendments to Crowley's technique and then removing his memory again for another go, and there was only so long Aziraphale could sit around doing nothing. He returned all the books he had summoned to Crowley's and put them away, made several cups of tea the human way (obviously bringing some for the other two, even if Gabriel looked at it in confusion and politely declined) and was a few chapters into a new book by the time Gabriel approved of Crowley's method. But then obviously it was time to go over the dangers of messing with your own mind and Aziraphale tuned out again, going back to his book until he heard Gabriel suggesting Crowley give it a try and telling him a date. It took a moment of concentration before Crowley laughed, highly amused.   
"The first time we saw a platypus? Really Gabe?" Crowley was somewhat surprised that the date he'd suggested had been something so simple with the pair of them being absolute idiots and Uriel looking on in bewilderment whilst holding the platypus in question. The rest of the day had been entertaining, seeing some of the new creations, but that had been the memory that really stood out to him.   
"What? I'd never seen you laugh so much, I figured it would be a good memory to get back." Crowley chuckled, teasing him for being a softie. Gabriel denied it of course but the smile he gave as he left to get back to work, now confident Crowley could work on restoring his memories unsupervised, seemed much less forced than any Aziraphale had seen in years. He had also given Crowley some more time periods as suggestions on where to start, which Crowley seemed intent on doing right away. Resigning himself to an evening of reading and snake-sitting, Aziraphale smiled and let him get on with it, keeping half an eye on him in case he needed anything. Content to sit and stay quiet so Crowley could concentrate, Aziraphale was surprised when he started asking questions, wondering what Aziraphale's memories of before the Fall were like and if they'd ever met before. Thinking, he told Crowley about their few meetings, since Crowley had spent a lot of time creating not many angels had seen him as much as they had the other Archangels. God, Aziraphale mused, had worked it out well with her Archangels, each having their own specialist role. That seemed to amuse Crowley greatly who immediately decided that must mean Gabriel was Heaven's PR guy and that it was hilarious. The more of his memories he got back, the more Crowley had to say, though it did seem to be tiring him out trying to get so much back at once. Crowley had been around since before time was created, and the Fall didn't happen until considerably later, so hesitantly Aziraphale suggested he take a break. Realising that Aziraphale was giving him his stubborn face, Crowley decided to save them both time and just give in, agreeing to drop it for the evening. The times Gabriel had suggested he recover had actually proved to be pretty useful so he figured he could take a moment to tempt the angel to dinner as thanks for sitting through Gabriel's lesson with him. Over their meal (or more Crowley's bottle of wine and Aziraphale's meal) they discussed everything Crowley had remembered, Aziraphale overjoyed to find out how much it had calmed Crowley's nerves. It turned out Gabriel had suggested times when Crowley and the other Archangels had been learning about using their powers and seeing how far they could stretch them, so at least he had a pretty good starting idea now. Crowley did mention wanting to find more memories of Lucifer so he had an idea of what they would be up against when (if, Aziraphale had tried to insist, but even he hadn't been convinced) Lucifer found out that Gabriel had unintentionally lifted the miracle he'd used on Crowley all those years ago. Concerned, Aziraphale did suggest that maybe he ask one of his siblings for suggestions on dates, worried what Crowley might remember given his and Lucifer's behaviour in his memories Gabriel had shown them. (As in he was sure that Lucifer was an abusive prick towards poor Crowley even before dragging him to Hell, and he was terrified Crowley would remember much worse than what they'd seen) Crowley wasn't convinced, pointing out that surely his memories of Lucifer in Hell would be more useful because not all of the Fallen had got as lucky as Crowley had (possibly because he never technically Fell, but he didn't like addressing that so he ignored it) and many of them had considerably different powers and behaviours. This went on for a while until exasperated, Aziraphale snapped at Crowley to stop being so self sacrificing and look after himself for once. Crowley stared him down for a moment, expression unreadable, before wordlessly getting up and leaving.   
"Crowley wait, I'm s-"   
"Not now, I'm not arguing with you. I'll see you around angel" And with that the Bentley door was slammed shut behind him and he'd sped off, not giving Aziraphale a chance to argue. Sighing, he headed back to the shop, taking the short walk as a chance to think. He'd learned from experience that sometimes you just had to let Crowley have his space for a moment, and he had no intention of upsetting him further by being rude and insisting on invading his privacy just to apologise and make himself feel better. (By the time Crowley returned he'd usually forgiven whatever Aziraphale had done or said, but Aziraphale always had an apology ready in case it was the one time Crowley would actually let him say it.) It didn't mean he liked it but both of them were rather on edge and therefore grouchier than usual so he couldn't be upset at Crowley for leaving when he probably would have done the same given another few minutes of them snapping at each other. There was nothing to stop him deciding to sit next to his phone to fret about things instead of his usual place which was the other side of the room though. Just in case. He was currently annoyed with the Demon but he wasn't about to ignore him, that would just be too far. Eventually his waiting paid off and Crowley sheepishly knocked at the door, poking his head in.   
"Sorry angel, are you alright?" In lieu of an answer Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a hug, apologising for being short with him when he was only taking the most sensible approach. Crowley sighed, nuzzling into Aziraphale's neck and hugging him back. "Don't apologise, I know you're only doing it because you're worried…. For what it's worth normally I'd have agreed with you on everything we've bitched about relating to this… I just can't take any risks. You know that right?" Sadly, Aziraphale nodded, letting go of Crowley and smiling.   
"I know. You're doing so much to try and keep everyone safe and so much has happened to you my dear boy. Once this is over I'm dragging you away from all this Upstairs and Downstairs nonsense for at least a year." Crowley laughed, patting Aziraphale's shoulder as he strolled past into the kitchen.   
"Make it two and we have a deal." Aziraphale watched as Crowley pottered about his kitchen, making him a cocoa the way he liked it and passing it over, choosing to sit on the counter and eat the remaining dark chocolate whilst Aziraphale gratefully drank the hot chocolate, watching him thoughtfully.   
"... Why do you always insist on doing things like this for me?" He wasn't complaining but he didnt think many other beings would just let themselves into other's houses to fuss over them.   
"You get hangry so I like to give you sugar before saying something I know you'll dislike. It lessens the bastard behaviour" Aziraphale scowled at the grinning snake on his kitchen counter, tempted to refill the mug and reject the drink to spite him. "Aww, don't give me that face angel, I'm just teasing. Well, I mean I do think you get hangry sometimes, but I also just figured you needed something comforting."   
"Oh. Thank you dearest, that's terribly good of you." Crowley stuck his tongue out in mock protest before pointing out that it would take more than a hot drink to stop Aziraphale's bastard behaviour anyway, laughing when said bastard behaviour led to marshmallows from Aziraphale's drink being thrown at him. "You know if you wanted to comfort me you could stay here for a while?" Quickly back-peddaling seeing the look of surprise on Crowley's face, he hastily added that it was for convenience and safety. Crowley had been shocked at Aziraphale's proposal but he supposed it did make sense given everything happening, shrugging and going with it.   
"If I didn't know better I'd think you enjoyed my company angel. Whatever would Upstairs say?"   
"They'd probably ask me why I put up with you" Crowley laughed, sliding off the counter.   
"True. Well you'll be putting up with me until this is over I guess. You're right, it is safer to stick together." It wasn't until a few hours later when he was being used as a pillow by a sleeping Crowley again, that Aziraphale realised that neither of them had any idea how long that would be, but he had still accepted the offer to stay so he could look out for him, even though Aziraphale knew Crowley found constant company to be draining and preferred having his own space. How had he ever accused this sweet serpent of being evil when for as long as they'd known each other he'd been the type of being to do things like this? Absolutely unforgivable, he'd have to remedy this as soon as Crowley woke up.


	8. Off the books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven and Hell let them know where they stand and Aziraphale gets wine drunk on a school night.

Apparently, Crowley did not much care for any kind of interaction between opening his eyes and his first mouthful of coffee some days. Aziraphale assumed, going by his monosyllabic answers to anything before then, that when he was tired he didn't seem to really process that he was awake until he was caffeinated. Even with the caffeine he still looked tired though, so Aziraphale took it upon himself to talk him into a moment of rest. (Crowley claimed it was too early for him to be in bastard mode, but Aziraphale insisted that early wasn't a concept for beings who didn't sleep and therefore won) Crowley was still asleep enough that he didn't question it too much and just accepted Aziraphale's plans, even if he did insist that he was being bullied into it. The plans did involve dragging him to the Chelsea Physic Garden so he quickly got over it though. Aziraphale hadn't been in some time, having popped in out of curiosity when it was established and not having been back since, and was amazed at how it had grown. Crowley visited more frequently, every few centuries or so to see what they'd done to the place, and was always curious to see what new plants and information they had on display. He didn't even threaten any of the plants this time for being less than perfect, and Aziraphale politely didn't mention the miraculous recovery of some plants a tourist had accidentally stood on, pleased to have distracted Crowley from his worrying for a little while. He happily read the information boards for Crowley, chuckling when Crowley got excited about humans finally working out what that plant did, or discovering other uses for parts of this plant and the like. In exchange Crowley insisted on them going to the café and getting Aziraphale to try their cakes and for a moment Aziraphale was able to kid himself that everything was alright. Beelzebub made short work of that though, talking to them through the radio and telling them that they expected to see them both in ten minutes time at Crowley's. Used to Hell's unorthodox methods of communication, Crowley just sighed and agreed, the radio changing back to it's previous tune once he had. Aziraphale however was baffled, looking around to see if any of the humans had noticed. (Obviously not, it wouldn't do to be that obvious but really, it wasn't a particularly nice way of communication, knowing that they could just hijack things in your life at any time to talk to you. Aziraphale suddenly understood Crowley's delight when he realised how little modern technology was at the bookshop.)  
"Well come on then, let's head back and see what Beelz has decided to do with us." When they got back to Crowley's Beelzebub was already there, looking curiously at the plants until they realised one was a flytrap and scowled at it. Crowley, who had bought that plant to be petty after some argument with Beelzebub, only just managed to hold himself together and not laugh at that whilst Aziraphale greeted them. Beelzebub impatiently waved him off, ignoring Crowley's muffled wheeze of amusement.   
"Let's cut to it. If you two are staying independent of Heaven or Hell and don't intend to meddle then I'm happy to just wipe Crowley from our systems. It's more hassle than it's worth having to explain literally anything about this and not end up with riots, and considering Lucifer's involvement, there's not much else I can do without getting him involved."  
"Oh, that's fantastic. We'd fully intended to stay neutral anyway but I don't suppose you could elaborate what would fall under meddling?" Aziraphale knew he should be jumping for joy at that kind of offer but he didn't want to piss off Hell by unintentionally breaking their promise somewhere down the line. Who knows what that could kick off? (A rhetorical question, it meant a lot of pissed off demons. It would kick off bloodshed and fighting and the pair of them wanted to avoid that as much as they could)   
"Doing anything that could swing things in favour of either side. Even if you do something for Downstairs there's still the chance Upstairs will use it as an excuse to start their bullshit. You stay neutral in whatever we do." Crowley thought it over, seeming less pleased by it now the conditions were clearer. He'd spent long enough unable to help humans and didn't want to entertain the thought of having to do it for any longer, even just to keep the peace and play damage limitation. Being truly neutral could rule out intervening to save humans from either side's work as well, rather than just behaving and not instigating things to tip the scales, and he knew in that case he wouldn't be able to keep that promise.  
"We all know humans are unpredictable enough for us to do that just by talking to the wrong one. What are our other options?"   
"You think you have any? Your options are you lay low and put off Lucifer finding out, or you wait until he gets over himself and comes to find you anyway." They had both suspected as much but hearing it out loud, especially from a Lord of Hell, was like a hammer blow to the chest.   
"Comforting as always… We'll stay out of the way and be neutral as we can but humans come before either side. Is that good enough? We'll be telling Upstairs the same thing."   
"I'm seeing Gabriel about this mess after I'm done here so that's good to know. Consider yourself wiped from the records Crowley. See you when this all goes to shit." Beelzebub snapped and vanished from the flat, and Crowley groaned and slumped face down on his desk.   
"What's the betting Gabe comes over as soon as he's done antagonising Beelz?" Realising he was right Aziraphale made a similar noise of displeasure and slumped next to him.   
"... At least if both sides are on the same page we have less to worry about. The biggest issue here is Lucifer and when he's going to show his face." Even as he said it Aziraphale realised it was a lie. The biggest issue for the pair of them was the uncertainty, having to stay on the edge and be prepared to fight for however long it took for him to appear. They were barely any time in and they were both already exhausted and irritable and things were only going to get worse. At this point Aziraphale would probably welcome Lucifer's appearance, just for the chance to catch a break. Crowley seemed to be in agreement, asking Aziraphale if he could deal with Gabriel so Crowley could go back to working on honing his powers. The memory thing had the perk of giving him information as well as the chance to get a feel for this less occult energy he was now wielding. Understanding, Aziraphale nodded and left him to it, wishing there was more he could do. As predicted Gabriel did appear post meeting with Beelzebub, just appearing into existence in the flat. Aziraphale quickly intervened and pulled him aside before he could disturb his now officially ex-demon, explaining that Crowley was concentrating.   
"It's actually you I'm here to see. I've just had a meeting with Beelzebub and we've decided the best thing to do for both sides is for Heaven to extend the same offer to you as Hell did for Crowley." The faux cheer was back, and so was the fake smile but Aziraphale couldn't blame him, all things considered. He understood why both sides had done it, wash your hands of the traitors and they can deal with the fallout. Not your problem anymore, and if anything happens it isn't on you. Understanding it didn't mean he liked it though, but he agreed either way.   
"An entirely reasonable decision. Like we told Beelzebub, we'll stay out of your way and not get involved with either side, so please go ahead and do whatever the Heavenly equivalent of crossing me out of the books is." Gabriel nodded, looking like he wanted to say something before shaking his head and just snapping his fingers, vanishing back to Heaven. Even though they'd cut ties during the Apocalypse, knowing it was happening officially now made it that much worse, so Aziraphale went back to Crowley, miracling up a favourite wine of theirs from his collection at the shop. "Fancy getting, as the humans say, 'white girl wasted'? It's meant to be incredibly therapeutic and I think we could both do with that right now."   
"I thought you'd never ask." Crowley was a little too eager to grab the bottle, concerning Aziraphale when he noticed his hands were shaking slightly.   
"Crowley what happened?"   
"It's fine, just unearthed some shitty memories. I'll get over it."   
"Oh dear, you-" Aziraphale paused mid attempt to hug Crowley when he flinched slightly, quickly backing away and apologising. Embarrassed, Crowley shook his head and hugged him, resting his head on his shoulder.   
"Don't apologise, I know you wouldn't do anything" Cautiously Aziraphale hugged Crowley back, smiling slightly. (No matter how he'd been feeling, Crowley trusting him always brightened Aziraphale's day. If he had to explain it to humans he'd probably liken it to the feeling when a dog just came and lay its head on your lap unprompted.)  
"Thank you... Did you want to talk about it at all?"   
"Dunno. Ask me again when we've finished this bottle of wine?" Aziraphale rolled his eyes but accepted it, letting Crowley get comfy leaning against him and keeping his glass topped up. Eventually, after considerably more than the one bottle and a lesson on 'the internet' (which was as confusing to Aziraphale as it was hilarious to Crowley) Crowley bought it up himself, miracling up another bottle. "Hey angel, what do you think I did to piss off Luci so much? I'm working backwards from what we saw with Gabe and haven't found it yet." Aziraphale snatched the bottle from him, having none of it.   
"Don't you dare talk like you somehow deserved what happened. There is nothing anyone could do to warrant being abused, yourself included." Crowley looked panicked by the sudden change in Aziraphale's mood, immediately apologising and trying to back track, unintentionally making it worse and getting snapped at to stop apologising. "Stop apologising when you've done nothing wrong you stupid, brilliant creature. Asking questions isn't bad, being curious isn't bad-oh for someone's sake Crowley you are not about to interrupt me to apologise for apologising. None of that thank you so shh and listen." Feeling read that Aziraphale had known what he was going to say, Crowley nodded and silently listened to Aziraphale's drunken rant about how Crowley needed to stop apologising and blaming himself. It did take some strange tangents, at one point the angel spending a whole hour bitching about how Lucifer himself, not Hell, was responsible for victim blaming and that he was going to fight him for it. By this point Crowley had started to sober up a little and was just watching him fondly, even if he was a bastard for hogging the wine (and spilling a fair bit as he wildly gesticulated, but under Crowley's disapproving gaze it knew better than to stain anything so Crowley let him get away with it.) Eventually Aziraphale's rant fizzled out and unsure of how to reply to literally any of it Crowley stayed quiet, deciding now was an acceptable time to get Aziraphale to share the wine again and wait and see what he came out with next.   
"Oh, I've just realised you're Adam's uncle. We should let him know, where's your phone?" Whatever he had been expecting from the angel it certainly hadn't been that and before he could point out it was late and they were both far too drunk to be calling anyone Aziraphale had his phone and had miraculously worked out how to unlock it and make a video call. To both of their surprise Anathema answered, looking baffled at the sight of two man shaped beings wrestling on a couch over the phone which was from the looks of things still in the angels grasp.   
"... Um. Adam is asleep, can I help you?" If Anathema hadn't been regretting her choice to let Adam and the Them stay for a sleepover and go through conspiracy theories before then she certainly was now, realising how drunk they both were when Aziraphale got excited over how clever video calls were. ("Crowley I can see her face. Isn't that charming? Bless the humans, they're so clever") She let him have his moment, finding it oddly endearing that this strange 6000 year old being was talking about humans like they were particularly creative toddlers or something, before politely asking again what they'd called for.   
"Nothing that can't wait until we see you next-" Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale pushing him out of the view of the camera with a loud shh.  
"Don't be ridiculous, we have to tell Adam he has new uncles." Anathema heard some Crowley noise happening off screen and wondered if either of them would even notice if she hung up. She was however, more invested in seeing what on Earth was going on rather than going back to sleep though so she decided to wait.   
"Nope, that can wait until we've dealt with Lucifer. I'm not dragging the humans into this angel, let the witch go back to sleep."  
Crowley reappeared in shot, almost getting the phone back but getting as far as accidentally pausing the video instead of hanging up before Aziraphale managed to get it away from him again. Without the visuals the hissing and muffled thuds were almost concerning before she remembered exactly which two beings this was. Sighing, she did hang up on them then, heading back to bed and telling Newt they were visiting London tomorrow when he groggily woke up enough to ask what happened. Unfazed by Anathema's tendency to explain nothing in full he just accepted it and went back to sleep, agreeing that London sounded lovely.


	9. Q&A with man shaped beings and a witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema wants answers. Aziraphale wants Crowley to be careful. Only one of them gets what they want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistent updates? I don't know her. Either way, enjoy

Okay so perhaps he should have questioned things more thought Newt as a very tired and dishevelled looking demon opened the door for them, sighing and inviting them in when he realised who it was. Anathema had decided on an early visit, partially to spite them both for waking her, and partially because she felt whatever was going on would take a long time to explain.  
"Gimme a sec, I'll wake up the angel." Both of them watched in curiosity as Crowley snapped his fingers and the mess he, Aziraphale, and his front room had been, all vanished. Feeling a miracle happen near him Aziraphale half woke up, groaning and rubbing his temples. Crowley graciously fixed it, even if he didn't think he deserved it after passing out drunk on him, yawning and motioning to the two humans, telling him to wake up properly because guests. Aziraphale took a moment to work out what was going on before remembering the drunken phone call and immediately sitting up properly, having the grace to look embarrassed about it.  
"I'm terribly sorry about last night dears, I hope we didn't inconvenience you too much." Crowley miracled up each of their favourite drinks then excused himself, deciding that Aziraphale called them so Aziraphale could deal with it whilst he went for a shower and changed his appearance a bit (He wasn't sure what he'd do yet but a new look always made him feel more confident, even if it was only a small change, and right now he could use the boost) Newt didn't want to question how he knew what their favourites were, deciding to just accept it and appreciate that Crowley had made it spot on. Anathema brushed off Aziraphale's apology, sitting with him and assuring him it was fine.  
"I do have some questions though? You mentioned something about dealing with Lucifer, should we be keeping an eye on Adam?"  
"Oh dear, I did didn't I? Adam is perfectly fine, it's Crowley who Lucifer is mad with. It's a rather long story so I won't bore you with the details but it's nothing for you to worry about." Newt didn't buy it at all, but wasn't about to argue with an angel who might still have a flaming sword somewhere. Anathema on the other hand called him out on it right away, staring him down until she got an answer. (Not that it took long, Aziraphale was terrible under pressure when he knew he'd done something.) "It's not really my place to share details, but we found out some things Lucifer had tried to keep from Crowley and we're a little concerned about what he'll do when he realises. That's all, like I said, Adam and yourselves are perfectly fine."  
"Are you and Crowley though?" Frowning at the look of mildly disguised panic on Aziraphale's face, even as he insisted that they were, Newt didn't notice Crowley come back in and nearly threw his drink all over himself, jumping when he spoke.  
"It's nothing we can't handle" Recovering himself Newt looked up to find Crowley watching him curiously, clearly wondering what the fuck had just happened, and he couldn't help but be a bit unnerved by his unblinking yellow gaze, blurting out a comment about snake eyes without thinking. Immediately Crowley looked away and miracled up some glasses to hide his eyes, putting them on and apologising, and Newt could practically feel the disappointment from Aziraphale for being so rude to his… Whatever Crowley and he were to each other. (He had originally thought husbands but Madame Tracy hadn't been convinced and she'd shared a body with Aziraphale so he assumed she'd be right.) Sinking into his seat he decided it was probably wisest for him to just stay quiet rather than piss off the strange man shaped beings with unknown powers.  
"Don't give him that face angel, they were literally designed to make people uncomfortable. Wouldn't be much of a curse otherwise would it?" Scooting Aziraphale up, he flopped into the seat beside him, sprawling out and looking both humans over. "So, not to be rude but are you done? Like Aziraphale said, we are expecting the literal devil to turn up at some point so it's not particularly safe for you to be here."  
"Not to be rude but I'd like more answers." Crowley laughed, prepared to answer any of her questions just out of respect to her.  
"Ask away then Ana. Specs, you can ask too so stop looking so scared." Eventually it was all laid out for the pair of them, Newt looking increasingly concerned whilst Anathema was looking increasingly invested in what was going on and asking more questions. Delighted, like he always was with inquisitive humans, Crowley answered them all for her whilst Aziraphale gently patted Newt's shoulder, assuring him it would be fine. It was hard to continue worrying when you had a literal angel telling you it would be fine so by the time Anathema decided she'd got her answers and been shot down repeatedly when offering to help, Newt was back to his usual levels of background stress. (If Crowley had let her get involved he wasn't convinced Aziraphale's calming presence would have done anything though. They'd already seen Lucifer once and that was more than enough.) With a promise to keep them updated and come visit when it was all over Aziraphale snapped his fingers and returned them both home, Dick Turpin returning to the drive as well. As soon as they were gone Crowley sighed, removing his glasses to rub his face.  
"... I think we're going to have to keep an eye on her. She's going to try and help somehow, she's as bad as you are."  
"I'd find that offensive if I didn't know it was a backhanded compliment. Now come here dear, let me fix this up, you've made a terrible mess running your hands through it." Without waiting for a response Aziraphale set about undoing Crowley's hair from its now messy bun and re-doing it for him, gently brushing back the curls with his fingers. "Long hair always looks marvellous on you, did changing it up a bit make you feel any better?" By now Aziraphale had worked out the reasoning behind Crowley's chameleon ways, always making sure to comment on his new appearance. Humming in response, Crowley let Aziraphale do as he liked to his hair whilst he thought.  
"Angel, what would you say if I wanted to go find Luci?" Aziraphale froze, absolutely gobsmacked and staring at him in disbelief.  
"Wha-why would you want to do that Crowley?" Voice small, clearly not expecting Aziraphale to be that against it, Crowley continued.  
"Well if we go to him there's no chance he can cause carnage up here….and I'm concerned the longer this goes on the more people are going to get dragged into this."  
"Absolutely not Crowley, you can't seriously expect me to support you choosing the most self destructive option we have."  
"Why not? You know I'm right, surely you-"  
"-Don't you dare tell me what I do and don't know, this is the most reckless and stupid thing I have ever heard you say"  
"You won't even hear me out. What does it even matter anyway if it keeps people safe?"  
"It matters because you matter so shut the fuck up and stop asking me to support you hurting yourself." Both of them froze, Aziraphale just as taken aback by Crowley at how aggressively he'd spoken. Crowley glared at him, clearly pissed off that he wouldn't even listen.  
"Fine, if that's what you want then fuck off back to your bookshop and I'll stop bothering you." and with a loud snap he was gone, leaving Aziraphale alone in the flat.


	10. Well that went badly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's in Hell, Aziraphale is having none of it and they find Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So idk if what I put counts as graphic but there is a fight. If there's something you think I should tag that I've missed let me know

For a moment Aziraphale was confused why Crowley would kick him out then vanish himself before realising that he'd probably gone to Hell on his own, feeling sick with worry. He tried to search him out but that necklace they'd both been so excited about was now working against them. He had no idea where in Hell Crowley had gone, only that he had to find him. Without thinking he snapped himself into Beelzebub's office, startling the demon who looked considerably less than impressed to see him. Right now he couldn't care less though, politeness be damned.   
"Have you seen Crowley? I think he's gone to see Lucifer" Aziraphale didn't even give Beelzebub a chance to bitch at his intrusion, his heart sinking when they shook their head, looking at him like he'd just sprouted a second head.   
"Are you two actually insane? Who the fuck-....forget it. I don't want to know. Lucifer's usual hiding place is far end past the torture chambers, left at the Pits. Get out" Before he could protest Aziraphale had been shoved from the room and the door slammed behind him.  
"...Where are the torture chambers though?" He was ignored when he tried knocking so went looking for a demon he could ask, a task made considerably harder by all of them actively trying to avoid him. Apparently most of Hell had better survival instincts than Crowley, which was a frustrating realisation considering why he was down there trying to get demons to talk. By the time he'd managed to corner a demon and get better directions he was terrified he would be too late, using his wings to propel himself as fast as he could go in the right direction.   
Hoping he'd remembered the layout correctly, Crowley had transported himself to just outside the door of what used to be Lucifer's personal space. He hesitated for a moment before fixing his usual grin into place and pushing the door open, deciding to act like he still didn't know until he saw an opening. It wasn't the greatest plan but he hadn't even had one when he'd snapped out of his flat in a sulk so it was an improvement he guessed. He'd been thinking about it for a while but hadn't got much past 'oh fuck is this seriously the better choice?' and had honestly surprised even himself by coming here. If he got out of this Aziraphale was absolutely going to murder him for being so reckless and he couldn't even argue with it. (If he made it back up to Earth then the first thing he was doing was apologising to the angel and potentially drinking himself into a coma or booking himself into therapy. Maybe both, he'd decide when he got there.) He barely even got a greeting out before Lucifer rounded on him, aggressively asking what the fuck he was doing there. Hearing that tone aimed at him again was almost enough to make him turn around and leave but he knew if he left now it would come back to bite him in the arse later. Clearly confused seeing Crowley instead of Beelzebub in his quarters, Lucifer paused and Crowley took the chance to just continue, sauntering in like he owned the place. In Hell he'd always projected far more confidence than he had and done everything he could to get under people's skin so they'd leave him alone. It had worked pretty well over the years, but damn was it hard to maintain when the literal ruler of Hell himself was staring at you in disgust.   
"Love what you've done with the place" As he walked he silently thanked whoever that whilst Lucifer was a lot of things, an interior decorator was not one, so a lot was still exactly as he remembered it. (Mostly because Lucifer couldn't care less and didn't really pay attention to his surroundings as long as they worked for him) Spotting what he was looking for he leant against the table, subtly putting himself between Lucifer and his line to Beelzebub's office. Lucifer hadn't noticed, more pissed off that he'd dared just walk in and act like he hadn't helped avert the apocalypse and turn his own son against him. Score one for improvisation, thought Crowley as he leant back, using his usual habit of draping himself over or against any piece of furniture he met to disguise him disconnecting it. It probably wouldn't buy him long when Lucifer noticed but hopefully the delay would mean Crowley could get out before he was able to call anyone to interfere. It was already going to be enough of a nightmare without ending up being outnumbered by demons who were considerably more ready to fight than he was. (Absently he wondered if Hastur was healed yet. He had this horrendous 'gift' for turning up when Crowley least wanted to see him and right about now fit that description pretty well)   
"Crowley are you for real? After everything you've done you just stroll in like it's nothing?"   
"I was worried when you went quiet. Can't I be concerned about the boss?"   
"Not when it's you, you fucking traitor. Wasn't it enough being the world's shittest demon? You just had to go one step further." As Lucifer stalked towards him, looking just about ready to slit his throat Crowley realised that maybe Aziraphale had been right, having his memories of Lucifer back might help him come up with something, but he was genuinely scared his corporation's heart might give out first with the way it was pounding in his chest. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he quickly tried to find a way to stall him, buy himself more time to make some kind of actual plan.   
"You know me, can never do anything by halves. I didn't think you'd be quite so mad though...thought maybe you'd appreciate the chance to get Hell in better shape for the War if I'm honest" Out of the corner of his eye he was sure he just saw something white hurtling past the door, mentally cursing himself for not checking if he'd been tailed. At least whilst he was paying attention to Crowley Lucifer had his back to the door and hadn't noticed whatever it was.  
"What is that meant to mean? Unlike you the rest of Hell are actually useful. You just got lucky with the apple and have been a disappointment ever since."   
Aziraphale would have completely missed the door if it hadn't been ajar enough for him to hear Lucifer's venomous snarling, having assumed it would have been one of the larger doors further up. Hesitant to give Lucifer any kind of extra target he tucked his wings away, trading them for his flaming sword and silently crept towards the door. The way he was talking to Crowley absolutely disgusted him and he was more than ready to put a stop to it, however he knew that getting Lucifer off guard was his best bet so he wanted to get closer before making himself known. Luckily for him Crowley was still the one facing the door, having deliberately kept it that way seeing something go past, and as long as he kept Lucifer's attention he should be able to get a surprise blow in. If Crowley deliberately goading Lucifer didn't make him lose his cool and just smite the pair of them before then anyway. What idiot just strolls up to the literal devil and starts winding him up? (His idiot apparently, because he knew when Lucifer got mad he got careless and Crowley wasn't ashamed to admit he needed that advantage.) Crowley noticed Aziraphale as soon as he slipped into the room, catching the slightest flash of the flaming sword and panicked slightly, wondering what the fuck he was doing there. Not that he wasn't thankful or anything but seeing Aziraphale in Hell always terrified him. (Which was a perfectly reasonable reaction to seeing a holy being surrounded by the unholy, literally created to be used against him he insisted) Noticing the momentary panic, Lucifer grinned and leant into Crowley's space, summoning a weapon to hand, pressing the blade underneath his jaw and forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at him.   
"Finally realising what a fucking idiot you've been?" To Lucifer's confusion Crowley seemed pleased more than anything, glad he'd finally got Lucifer to lower his guard and get up in his space.   
"Just the opposite actually" Now he was close enough Crowley grabbed Lucifer's arm, pouring as much of his recently acquired holy energy into him as possible, knowing from when Gabriel had done it the first time that it would be excruciating. Hopefully on an actual Demon rather than whatever he was the holy energy would do a lot more damage too. Part of him hoped it would be enough, but Lucifer had been an Archangel as well so he wasn't convinced. Quickly he put as much space between them as possible, summoning his staff, whilst Lucifer screamed and clutched his arm. Even though he had the weapon and the advantage Crowley still froze up at the look Lucifer gave him, memories of every other time he'd seen it flashing through his mind. Aziraphale hadn't dared risk knocking Lucifer whilst he held a blade to Crowley's throat but as soon as Crowley was out of the way he struck. He had been aiming for a lethal blow but even as pained as he was Lucifer had managed to deflect somewhat and instead ended up with a painful but not fatal wound. Roaring in frustration Lucifer expanded his wings, slamming them into Aziraphale and sending him flying into the wall, knocking the sword from his hand on impact. Knowing better than to leave them out he tucked his wings away again, using Crowley's moment of fear for Aziraphale against him and attacking. Even with a holy weapon Crowley was struggling to defend himself. Especially when he was also trying to move to check if Aziraphale was okay. It wasn't until he went to retreat a little and bumped into a wall that he realised he'd backed himself into a corner, eyes widening as he looked at Lucifer in fear.  
"So Raph, when were you going to tell me you remembered? Was I right about the guilt? I can get you the souls you could have saved if you like, let you put faces to your failures. My treat" Aziraphale saw the way Crowley momentarily hesitated, realising they needed to end this as soon as they could, before Crowley's fear of Lucifer caused a mistake. He hadn't been alone, Lucifer also noticing his reaction and immediately using it to his advantage. Crowley had always been the easiest to manipulate out of his siblings so it barely took anything. A few digs here, some not so subtle emotional blackmail there whilst he was attacking him and Crowley's grip on his weapon was shaky at best, making it easy for Lucifer to disarm him and knock the staff aside. Both of them knew that without it he wasn't much threat. He couldn't repeat his stunt earlier, having used nearly all of his power on it, and without any kind of weapon, holy or otherwise, he was pretty much useless. Lucifer raised his blade again but Aziraphale wouldn't stand for it, snatching his sword up and going on the offensive, forcing him to move away from Crowley. Amused, Lucifer turned his attention to riling up Aziraphale as they fought instead. "Putting up a real good fight for the sorry little bitch. Is the dick that good?" Aziraphale had never wanted to cause anyone physical harm as much as he had in that moment, swinging his sword more aggressively as Lucifer laughed and continued making derogatory comments about their relationship and Crowley. Ignoring it, Crowley made a dash for his staff as soon as he got the chance, realising Lucifer was just trying to wind up the angel enough for him to make a mistake. For a moment it looked like it had worked, Crowley panicking and instinctively stopping time, Lucifer's blade only millimetres from his throat. Aziraphale stared at the blade in horror, realising how close he'd been to being killed. Having already spent most of his power Crowley couldn't keep it up for long, both of them dodging away as time continued and Lucifer came at them again. The near miss seemed to have encouraged Aziraphale to fight harder, deciding to go with the whole 'the best defense is a good offence' strategy. Not for the first time Crowley was hugely glad he'd never had to fight Aziraphale, because he was absolutely certain he'd have lost. (Sneaky and speedy vs brute force and skill could only get you so far) Even without the way Lucifer was clearly struggling with the arm Crowley had hit with his powers, he got the distinct impression Aziraphale still would have held his own. The angel was actually slightly terrifying when he had a sword in hand, but in this situation holding his own wasn't good enough and as soon as he had his staff back Crowley jumped back into action, aiming at parts of the corporation that he knew would limit Lucifer's ability to fight. (Distantly he thought that this probably wasn't what he'd had in mind when he wanted to learn about them, but he couldn't deny it was useful knowing where the fragile bits were.) With the two of them working together and Lucifer's arm getting worse the more he used it, Aziraphale was optimistic they had the upper hand. Lucifer had the same realisation, and backed up against the table where Crowley had been earlier, he slammed the summons button, too distracted by the angel trying to decapitate him to notice it hadn't worked.   
"What do you two arseholes even want? Don't think I haven't noticed only the angel is out for blood. What are you hoping, you can just incapacitate me and talk this out Raph? How fucking naive" Crowley flinched, trying to protest and defend himself even if Lucifer was right, even if mid fight he had been trying to find a less violent way out of this. "Shut your fucking mouth. Look at you, can't even pick a lethal weapon so you trick some dumb angel into doing your dirty work whilst you wave your blessed stick around and make it look like you're trying. You just want to keep your hands clean like the rest of the pricks upstairs don't you?" How he had the energy to be such a twat whilst still fighting Aziraphale would never know, but it did give him an idea. Crowley didn't seem to have much left in him by way of miracles, so Aziraphale changed his staff to a spear for him. It happened so quickly that the other two didn't realise until a blow meant to wind Lucifer and stop him talking instead sunk into his throat between his collarbones, the tip of the spear emerging the other side. Horrified, Crowley let go of his weapon, apologising repeatedly and telling Lucifer he didn't mean to. Stunned, Lucifer couldn't help but croak out a laugh as Crowley tried to heal him, even if they all knew even Crowley, the Archangel of healing, probably couldn't fix this. Aziraphale looked on in horror when he realised what he'd done, moving to help even if he wasn't sure how. That kind of injury from a holy weapon, especially one that had literally just had a miracle cast on it meant there wasn't anything he could do for Lucifer other than remove said weapon to let Crowley try and heal him. (Which truthfully was more for Crowley than Lucifer, the poor snake seemed desperate at this point) Returning the staff to its usual form he put it aside, watching as Crowley forcibly used the last of his energy in an attempt to heal Lucifer, sobbing and apologising when it didn't work. Aziraphale couldn't watch him do this to himself, stepping in and gently removing his hands from Lucifer's throat where they'd been pressed in an attempt to stop the holy energy spreading. Already the holy burns were beyond his control though and neither of them could sense any life left in the corporation which just made Crowley cry harder.   
"Crowley, stop. You're just going to-"   
"Going to what Aziraphale? I just fucking killed him, how can I do anything worse?" Crowley snatched his hands away from him, roughly rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. Aziraphale's heart broke for the ex-demon in front of him, wishing there was something he could do. It wasn't until he heard a low whistle and clapping from the doorway that he belatedly realised that perhaps that something should have been keeping watch. He hadn't been particularly secretive about where he was going and even the demons who didn't know would probably be curious about an angel tearing through Hell in a rush, so it made sense that someone would probably come see what was going on. He just kind of wished they'd maybe chosen to do it a bit later when he'd had a chance to deal with the body and get Crowley out of here.   
"Congratulations Serpent. You've really outdone yourself….I'd even say it's your best work since Eden, but I don't think this falls under staying neutral does it?"


	11. Give them hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so Beelzebub has ulterior motives. What a shock

Immediately Aziraphale had his sword back in hand and was on his feet, ready to fight his way out of Hell if he had to.   
"Put that down before you have someone's eye out" Beelzebub didn't seem particularly bothered by the sight before them, walking over to assess Lucifer's corpse. "... What a mess. Just throw it in the pits and be done with it, I don't want it around." Both Crowley and Aziraphale were absolutely baffled, looking to each other and then back to Beelzebub, unsure they'd heard them correctly.   
"Have I missed something? We've just accidentally killed the King of Hell and you want us to burn the evidence?" Aziraphale wasn't complaining that Beelzebub didn't seem to care, but he couldn't help but feel like this was some kind of trap. Beelzebub rolled their eyes, motioning for them to hurry up.   
"Who do you think gets his role now he's gone?" In literally any other circumstance Crowley usually found Beelzebub's flippant attitude rather entertaining, but now it was more terrifying than anything. Relationships in Hell were dysfunctional at best but this was a new low, and Crowley was even more glad he'd interacted as little as possible to do with Hell over the years.   
"Guess it's one way to get a promotion" Crowley picked up his staff, putting it away and sighing. "What happens once we've ditched the body?" Hesitantly Aziraphale put his sword away too, picking up Lucifer.   
"I'll make out like the two traitors went rogue and I'll take his crown. I'm sure you can convince Heaven to think you were doing them a favour and let it slide, manipulation was always your only strength as a demon. If you do then politically it works out great, you just might end up with a few people out for your blood. But you were in that situation before anyway so whatever." Beelzebub shrugged, looking around at the damage and reconnecting the line to their office. Well, when it was worded like that Aziraphale guessed it could have gone considerably worse for them, taking and lowering Lucifer into the sulphur pits as instructed, careful not to get any on himself. Anything was preferable to seeing the expression on Crowley's face as he watched Beelzebub potter about and hide any evidence of what had happened.   
"Right…" Crowley clearly trusted Beelzebub about as much as he trusted any politician but right now he just couldn't bring himself to argue. "In that case excuse us, I imagine you'll invite yourself over at some point if there's anything we should know." Exhausted, he lightly tugged at Aziraphale's sleeve, the angel getting the message and taking them back to his flat. It wasn't until he saw Crowley in the harsh light of his flat and not the dim lighting of Hell that he realised what a state the poor snake was in. He didn't even mean the blood he was covered in or how dishevelled he was after the fighting. What worried him most was the way he was trembling and barely holding back more tears. It didn't get any better when Michael appeared, Aziraphale not knowing who looked more shocked at what they were seeing, them or Crowley.   
"Crowley, Aziraphale, what happened?" When Michael had popped down to check they were okay after several consecutive failed healing miracles had popped up under Raphael's name they clearly hadn't been expecting this.   
"I- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to, it was an- was an accident-" Concerned, they cut off Crowley's rambling and tried to calm him down, clearly out of their depth and looking to Aziraphale for help. The angel in question wasted no time pulling Crowley into his arms and gently rubbing his back, assuring him it was okay. Crowley stiffened, protesting that it wasn't and that Lucifer had been right.   
"He absolutely had not been-"   
"-He had though! I was just trying to deal with this with the least damage and I fucking killed him" Crowley hissed and tried to wriggle free of Aziraphale's arms, clearly furious with himself. Michael tried to piece together what was going on with growing concern. Giving them an apologetic look Aziraphale excused Crowley and filled them in.   
"We uh, went to Hell to see Lucifer about everything that's happened… and there was a bit of a fight?" Understanding dawned on their face as they looked over the pair of beings before them. They'd sent Lucifer down to Hell and felt responsible for him taking Crowley too, so they could empathise with how he was feeling. Until they'd found out what became of the Fallen they had genuinely thought they'd sent two of their siblings to their death.   
"I understand. I uh…if you'd like to talk sometime Crowley I believe I can relate a little." Crowley nodded a little, a quiet thanks just audible but Michael accepted it anyway, smiling slightly. "Would you like me to stay or do you need space?" Another nod and Crowley asked for space.   
"It's nothing personal. I just don't think I can deal with the whole Heaven and Hell thing right now"   
"Understood. Get in touch when you're up to it.. and take care, both of you." Once they'd left Aziraphale gently led him to the bathroom, praying that Michael could buy them enough time with Upstairs for both of them to pull themselves back together.   
"Come on dear, let's at least get the blood off you. It can't be comfortable."   
"I got this angel, you just make yourself at home, do whatever, I won't be long." Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to stay and help but recognised a dismissal when he saw one, leaving Crowley to it and cleaning himself up with a miracle before collapsing on the couch. He usually shared Crowley's preference for keeping clean the human way, but today he needed to miracle away every trace of Hell and be sure he hadn't missed anything. Thinking about what a mess the whole trip had been he groaned, covering his face. He believed the human term for this entire day was a 'clusterfuck', but he'd have to ask Crowley. Talking of Crowley, he was fairly certain that he had managed to go his entire existence without killing anyone (directly that is, try as he might to keep his demonic work to a minimum there had been a few casualties over the years) and he'd gone ahead and accidentally miracled him into murdering his own brother. How do you even bring something like that up? Where do you start with an apology? He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sensation of a miracle being cast on him, healing him and making him feel less weary and called out a thanks to Crowley before remembering how exhausted the ex-Demon had been, unable to even get them home. Concerned, he went to go check on him, knocking at the door before peeking in. Crowley had thrown all his clothes in the bin and was sat in the bath, absently watching the water run red as he scrubbed his arms clean of blood.   
"Are you okay dear, can I do anything?" Half of him expected to be told he'd already done enough but Crowley just watched him for a moment and shrugged.   
"No, but I will be eventually. Are you?" Taking the shrug as a sign he could come in, Aziraphale came and sat on the end of the bath, deciding to help Crowley with his hair.   
"It's nothing I haven't had to deal with before, made as a soldier remember?" Crowley pouted, even as Aziraphale massaged his head, working the shampoo through his hair.   
"Not an answer angel"   
"Hm, you asked a question and I replied so I think it was. Head back dear, I'm going to rinse this out." Crowley did as he was told, mostly so he could scowl at Aziraphale for being pedantic but Aziraphale didn't pay any attention to it, focusing on thoroughly rinsing out his hair. "...You know Beelzebub better, how much trouble have we just caused giving them Hell?" Crowley thought about it, genuinely unsure.   
"Beelz is more organised than Luci ever was so I think Heaven will have to watch out… But for the humans it might actually work out a bit better?" Aziraphale didn't know if that was good news or not, glad it could work out better for humanity, but already dreading what Heaven and Hell might do to each other (And them for escalating this mess even further, but that was lower on his priorities right then) "What about you, any thoughts on Heaven?"   
".... I hate to say it dear but I think we might have to give Beelzebub's suggestion a try. Although they have been considerably better than I was expecting about this whole thing so far. I guess it just depends on what Beelzebub does with Hell."   
"Which at the moment is anyone's guess…. Ugh, we are so fucked. Why can't we ever get into things we can resolve by ourselves?" Tiredly, Aziraphale agreed. If this had just been about Crowley's memories or power change they could have dealt with it easily by themselves. Things only got difficult as soon as their ex-colleagues got involved. Frankly he was pretty sick of having to tiptoe round them whilst protecting the humans, especially when it came to Upstairs. He wasn't sure when caring for Her creation was dropped from the orders up there but there wasn't much he could do about it now he was fired, or whatever the celestial term was. Crowley was busy trying to work out logistics of what to do next, already on edge waiting for something else to go wrong. Best case scenario with downstairs is that Beelzebub would let it slide as a trade off for getting them the crown and being scapegoats. There'd probably be personal attacks from demons but no mass action from Hell as a whole. So then it was a case of what they'd do with Hell and how Upstairs would react. Crowley wasn't sure how killing Lucifer would go down, but even if the Archangels themselves disapproved he couldn't see Heaven taking any major action purely because taking out the literal devil was an action in their favour. As long as Beelzebub didn't do anything drastic to antagonise Heaven he was semi-confident he could keep the two sides happy enough not to outright murder them at least. Maybe. There were still too many variables for him to have any real faith in it but it was something for now. The main question was did they try and patch things up with Heaven or Hell first? He had a horrible feeling they'd end up yo-yoing between the two passing along information and everything being dragged out longer than it needed to. When he asked Aziraphale's opinion the angel came to a similar conclusion, both of them pre-emptively dreading it.   
"Well there's nothing we can do for the moment so come along dear. Up and out, you can't sit and wallow all night, your corporation will turn into a prune."   
"Yeah yeah, go grab us some clothes?“ Once Aziraphale was out of the room he miracled his injuries to at least look healed, not having the energy for much more, realising once he was out of the water he couldn't really hide them from Aziraphale otherwise.   
"I couldn't find anything suitable so I miracled you up a little something. Really dear, I wish you'd dress more practically" Crowley couldn't help but smile a little at his tone, especially when he saw that what Aziraphale had miracled was possibly the worst possible combination of both of their tastes possible and he loved it.   
"I could, but I'm a firm believer of fashion over function" He decided better than to comment on the little snort of amusement from Aziraphale once he was dressed, grabbing a towel and drying his hair. He paused before leaving the bathroom, deciding to toss his staff in there to deal with later, doing his best not to look at it. Aziraphale couldn't help but feel guilty at that, tugging him away and leading him back to the lounge, away from the evidence of what they'd done and straight into Gabriel who had just appeared out of nowhere. Gabriel steadied Aziraphale before looking them both over and bluntly telling them they looked terrible.   
"Looking hot isn't particularly high on my priorities right now Gabe. Why are you here?"   
"Michael came back with some concerning news. Is there something you need to report to Upstairs?" Michael appeared, mouthing an apology as they tugged Gabriel aside, demanding he be nice. "I'll be nice when I get some answers." Crowley sighed, already realising it was going to be a long night, motioning for them to take a seat.   
"We'll talk, just promise you'll hear us out first?"


	12. Thanks but no thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has had Enough. But at least Upstairs knows what's going on now

Gabriel looked like he highly doubted whatever they had to say would be worth it, but he sat and motioned for Crowley to speak. Realising he had no idea where to begin, Crowley played with his sleeves and hesitantly started with when he got to Hell, deeming it as good a place to start as any. By the time he got to Lucifer's death he could barely hold himself together, unable to look at his siblings. Aziraphale took his hand, continuing from where Crowley had left off, explaining that it hadn't been Crowley's fault when he'd been the one to change his staff. He hastily added that what had happened had never been his intention either and that he'd just wanted to give Crowley a better way to defend himself, but Crowley had already ripped his hand from his grasp, looking at him in disgust.   
"That was you!? I thought I'd done it somehow. What the fuck Aziraphale?" Well, that explained why Crowley had been fine with him earlier thought Aziraphale, even as he tried to defend his actions. (Come to think of it he could understand how Crowley had come to that conclusion too, when he was incredibly stressed he sometimes slipped up and performed an accidental miracle or two. He was still banned from mentioning certain incidents) Michael and Gabriel were sat there still trying to process what was going on. To them it seemed with these two everytime you thought they'd peaked they'd find some new way to surprise you, and honestly neither Archangel had a clue what to do about it. "Don't try and excuse this when for years you've been on your moral high horse accusing me of things like this, then go and help me murder my fucking brother"   
"Crowley I don't think th-"   
"No, you fucking don't think Gabe, so shut up and butt out. Most of this is on you anyway. If you'd just learned to be a semi-decent being and stay out of people's heads none of this would have even started" Gabriel panicked as Crowley rounded on him, looking to the other two for what to do. Aziraphale shook his head, not getting involved. (It was selfish but if he was shouting at Gabriel it meant he wasn't shouting at him, so he was not about to intervene) After watching in amusement as Crowley laid into Gabriel for a bit, Michael stepped in, shhing Gabriel when he tried to protest.   
"Do as Crowley says for a moment Gabriel, he's right. This did start because of an error of judgement on our part, so we can't put this all on him and his Principality. You remember as well as I do the way Lucifer treated him even before the fall so I absolutely believe it was self defense gone wrong." Silently Gabriel nodded, still looking uncomfortable about Crowley's outburst, whilst Aziraphale and Crowley waited to see when the inevitable 'but' would come. "Whilst I can't condone their actions or suggest they should get away with it, I do think we need to discuss this properly with Upstairs and not make any rash decisions. We've already done enough damage that way." Gabriel didn't miss the pointed look in his direction at that, mumbling an agreement. "Continue telling us what happened?" Not really wanting to, Aziraphale continued anyway, trying to ignore the looks of disgust when he mentioned burning the evidence. From the two Archangels that were looking at him anyway, Crowley seemed to be doing his best to tune him out and hold his shit together instead of listening to him. When Aziraphale got to where they came back to Crowley's flat he stopped, nervously waiting for some kind of reaction from Gabriel and Michael.   
"Hm, so Beelzebub has Hell now. That's concerning. Michael?" Both Archangels seemed deep in thought about what that could mean, less concerned about Lucifer's death now they knew his replacement.   
"Incredibly. Though at least it's not one of the idiots like Hastur… Thank you for sharing this with us, we'll be in touch when Upstairs has made a decision" Pulling Gabriel to his feet Michael excused them both and snapped them both back Upstairs, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale to catch up. Aziraphale desperately wanted to ask what Michael had meant when they mentioned Lucifer's behaviour before the Fall but the look on Crowley's face when he went to ask promptly put him off. It was quiet for a moment before Crowley groaned, putting his head in his hands as he realised too late that Beelzebub's suggestion of trying to sell it as a favour for Upstairs probably would have worked better than him going off at Gabriel. When Aziraphale questioned him he loudly shhed him, waving him away.   
"You shh and stop being nice. I'm trying to be mad at you."   
"Oh. Terribly sorry." Aziraphale folded his hands on his lap, staying quiet and mulling things over, unaware of Crowley watching him and trying to decipher the feelings he could sense from him.   
"You're insufferable you know that? I can't even be mad when I know you were only trying to help." Crowley pouted, resting his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. Even without the same sixth sense that Crowley had for negative feelings he could still sense particularly strong ones and was pleased to note that Crowley's had lessened a little after a frankly quite worrying spike earlier.   
"What is it the humans say, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' or something like that?" Crowley snorted, pointing out that they both knew the road to Hell was actually a shitty linoleum paved corridor with horrendous lighting. "True, but that's much less poetic" Deciding he absolutely was not able to cope with just sitting around thinking until the Archangels or Beelzebub returned, Aziraphale miracled up some books, opting for the most delightfully human ones he could think of off the top of his head. Recognising it for the distraction technique that it was, Crowley prompted him to read out loud, getting comfy and settling in for the long haul. Aziraphale gladly obliged, the pair of them content with anything to pass the time as long as they weren't left alone with their thoughts.   
The next few days were a haze of various distraction methods and high key stress for Aziraphale and Crowley, both of them waiting to hear anything from their ex-employers. Crowley had done his best to get news from Hell but promptly changed his mind when he found out Hastur was healed up and roaming free again. (Keeping up to date with Hell's affairs had been meant to put his mind at ease, not give him more to worry about.) Aziraphale hadn't fared much better, having not had any answers at all, and he didn't buy into the no news is good news phrase the humans seemed fond of. It was a strange kind of limbo where they were just waiting to see who moved first. Neither of them were even sure if Beelzebub knew that Heaven was aware of their new role, or even if it had gone to plan and they had said role. Crowley had loudly complained that at this point Heaven and Hell were just messing with them and keeping them waiting. After his restless pacing had got on Aziraphale's nerves they'd agreed to go back to the bookshop, under the delusion that a change of scene might help calm him down. Even if they were hesitant to separate in case anything happened Aziraphale finally had enough, snapping at Crowley to just go do something, anything, as long as it stopped him being so antsy. Crowley would have been offended if he wasn't winding himself up too with his constant moving and fidgeting, so accepted it and went to terrorise some unsuspecting motorists in the Bentley. Aziraphale had not long settled, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet when Gabriel appeared, looking confused to only find Aziraphale.   
"He's out, what do you want?" He was too tired and grouchy to even pretend to be civil, and for once Gabriel seemed to pick up on that, passing over some envelopes with Heaven's seal on them.   
"I'm only here to let you know Upstairs has made their decision" Quickly Aziraphale opened the envelopes, flicking through the contents, before turning to Gabriel and asking if it was some kind of joke. Confused, Gabriel shook his head assuring him that was the offer Upstairs had deemed was best. Aziraphale was done accepting orders from Heaven, and glad Crowley wasn't here to stop him he decided to let Gabriel know exactly what he thought of these latest ones.   
"Well you can take this rubbish back Upstairs and tell them where to stick it." Grabbing a pen and scribbling amendments and roughly crossing out sections he continued to bitch at Gabriel. Clearly having no idea what to make of this (who on earth would dare turn around and deem the word of Upstairs to be rubbish and then argue with Her messenger about it? This rogue principality must have been made defective) Gabriel just nodded and let Aziraphale call him and Heaven out for their treatment of himself and Crowley when all they'd done was look after her creation. When he was satisfied that the paperwork from Heaven was suitably fixed Aziraphale shoved it into Gabriel's chest, steering him towards the door.   
"Do be a dear and come back with a better offer. Or even better, try negotiating rather than just giving us orders."   
"I'll see what I can do" Realising he didn't really have much choice Gabriel took the hint and left, absently wondering if he should just miracle the papers clean of Aziraphale's changes and try Crowley instead. He was pretty sure he could get him to agree even if it was just to get rid of him, but the choice was taken from him when the Bentley pulled up outside the shop. There went that plan, he wouldn't manage it with Aziraphale around. Confused as to why he'd seen Gabriel snap himself off somewhere outside the shop Crowley rushed in to check Aziraphale was okay.  
"Hm? Oh I'm fine, Gabriel was just letting me know Upstairs was still making decisions." It technically wasn't a lie since he'd given them more decisions to make so he was confident he'd get away with it. Crowley did look sceptical but thankfully didn't press it any further. Aziraphale wasn't convinced he'd manage to outright lie to him, especially now he was realising what he'd done. Turns out angry and impulsive wasn't a good mix for him and he desperately hoped he hadn't just made things worse. (Though one of the amendments had been to treat their cases separately rather than lumping them in together, in the hope that it meant lesser punishments for each of them so hopefully if he had made it worse it would only be for himself.)   
"Maybe I should try getting in touch with Downstairs to see if Beelz has made any decisions then" Considering that their name had been mentioned in the papers he'd just refused Aziraphale had a feeling that was rather pointless, trying to dissuade Crowley.   
"Not to be rude but the less interaction we have with Hell the better, can't we just wait for them to contact us?"   
"I guess….I'm going to call book girl then. We did promise her updates and if Newts about its fun to wind him up by encouraging her with wild conspiracies." Aziraphale nodded and left him to it, knowing he'd still find Crowley sat on the kitchen counter with a coffee making absolutely ridiculous statements down the phone in a couple of hours time. (Crowley and Anathema always seemed to have a lot to say to each other and Aziraphale honestly understood next to none of it most of the time. He wasn't sure Newt did either the poor boy, but neither of them had the heart to intervene and ask for clarification) With Crowley occupied Aziraphale took the chance to pray, intentionally this time, to apologise for being so rude and explain himself. He cut his prayer short before he started being rude again, almost jumping out of his skin when a letter plopped onto his lap. It looked like Hell's work even though it was on Heaven's stationary so confused, he cautiously opened it to find that Beelzebub enjoyed some of his suggestions and wanted him to join the next meeting they had with the Archangels. They also wanted him to join the 21st century and get something they could use to contact him with instead of a letter but Aziraphale ignored that part. He wasn't even sure how he'd go about praying to Beelzebub so he opted to write his reply and tuck it in the envelope, miracling it back to sender and hoping for the best. Frowning at their immediate response he realised it was probably about time he would have to learn to lie to Crowley.


	13. Coming clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying always ends well folks

It turns out, lying to Crowley comes easier than he'd like to admit. He never even questions it, most likely lulled into a false sense of security by the last 6000 years of Aziraphale being a bit too truthful. (Crowley had always teased him about being the inventor of over-sharing and found it hilarious) Sure he looked sceptical sometimes but he always bought whatever Aziraphale's excuse of the day was, whatever lie he tossed his way to keep him out of things. Aziraphale felt terrible about it but he'd be damned if he didn't do what he could to get them free of the endless Heaven v Hell cycle. He'd thought it was going fairly well (or as well as lying to the one person on your side in all of this could go) until he was talking to Beelzebub one time and they offhandedly commented how funny it was that he was Downstairs whilst Crowley was Upstairs. Okay so perhaps he hadn't been as slick as he'd thought. Quickly excusing himself he rushed to get Upstairs, realising belatedly looking around the large open spaces that he had no idea in Heaven where he was. Crowley hadn't taken the necklace off, having decided he rather liked being untraceable by either side so that made everything considerably harder. He seemed closest with Michael so Aziraphale decided it made sense to start from their office and work from there. Otherwise necklace or not Crowley was still recognisable as a demon so he could try asking around. (He was well aware that as the only full time Demon on Earth Crowley was also somewhat infamous Upstairs, and would probably be recognised even if someone did miss the demonic aura, but this was probably the only time he'd been thankful for it) He'd been half right, he did eventually find Crowley and Michael together, though not in their office. They both looked less than impressed at his presence, and Aziraphale knew he'd been caught out. Michael looked him over with disdain and excused themselves to get back to work, leaving him alone with Crowley.   
"...you know you still smell like Hell right?" Flustered, Aziraphale tripped over his words, not sure if he should tell the truth or not. Clearly whatever Crowley had deciphered from his babbling didn't impress him, the ex-Demon rolling his eyes and motioning for him to stop. "I'm going home, find me whenever you feel like being honest or can lie more convincingly"   
"Wait, wait. I'm sorry dearest, please let me explain"  
"Let me guess, you thought you were doing the right thing? It was in our best interests?" Surprised, Aziraphale nodded, unsure if he should be relieved Crowley got it or concerned that he seemed so annoyed about it.   
"Well yes, I was on-"   
"You know just because I can't sense any ill-intent doesn't mean you're not being a dick. Give me one good reason for lying to me."  
"I wanted to try and help. You had so much to deal with and when Beelzebub got in touch I knew you'd worry-"   
"-and you thought I wouldn't worry when you were lying to me or when I found out you were going Downstairs to deal with Beelz? You saw their reaction to Lucifer, what makes you think they wouldn't use you as a stepping stone too?" Aziraphale didn't have an answer for that, having never even thought about these parts of it and clearly it was written over his face because Crowley continued. "After everything I've told you about Downstairs over the years what part of it made it seem like I wouldn't worry about you going down there alone?" Aziraphale apologised, trying to come up with something and drawing a blank.   
"You're not sorry, you still think you did the right thing. You always do when you pull impulsive crap like this, even after I have to bail you out." Metaphorical feathers rustled by Crowley's attitude he huffed and crossed his arms.   
"Really dear, what's with the attitude? Especially when you haven't done it this time" Knowing as soon as he'd spoken that he'd messed up Aziraphale rushed to apologise but Crowley slapped some envelopes down on the side, complete with Heavenly seals and all, then snapped himself out of the room. Recognising them as identical to the ones Gabriel had delivered, Aziraphale picked them up and went through the contents, feeling more and more guilty as he read through the new terms from Heaven. Surprised, he noted that Crowley had not only got most of his amendments included, but had managed to somehow swing it even more in their favour. Maybe Beelzebub had been right, not about him being manipulative, but about Crowley being able to talk almost anyone into anything when he put his mind to it. (Although not that Crowley would confess to it, he had been a little manipulative this time. Considering the stakes he thought it was excusable though, he wasn't about to risk not getting his way with the shit-show going on around him) Most of the time he yo-yoed between being barely articulate and using that sarcastic tongue of his to cause chaos, so it was easy to forget sometimes that this was the same Serpent who had talked Eve into taking the apple and performed numerous Temptations with as little as a few well placed words. The same Serpent that he'd lied to and snuck around rather than asking for help when he'd so readily given it over the years. Realising what a mess he'd made of things Aziraphale pocketed the papers and snapped his fingers, taking himself to Crowley's flat. Just because he'd been expecting it didn't mean Crowley was particularly happy that Aziraphale had followed him, raising an eyebrow at his presence.   
"Well? Was awful quick if you learned to lie better"   
"What? No dear I'm here to be honest. The deal you got with Heaven was brilliant, I don't know how I could have doubted you"   
"Why break the habit of a lifetime" Muttering to himself Crowley picked up his plant mister and went to tend to his plants, knowing Aziraphale would follow. Aziraphale decided against commenting on the way the plants were shaking in their pots, letting Crowley do his thing. He was going to defend himself but realised that even if he had trusted Crowley from a little before the time of the arrangement, he'd still been saying otherwise up until the Apoca-nope happened. It was another thing to put on Aziraphale's list of things he's unintentionally given Crowley a complex about, which was shamefully much longer than he'd like (the ideal list being blank) and was nearly all down to Aziraphale listening to Upstairs' anti demon propaganda. Nervously playing with his cuffs, not entirely sure how best to handle this he hesitantly tried to apologise again until Crowley shut him up with a look over his glasses.   
"...didn't we not long have a conversation about excessive apologising?"   
"Well yes, but it's different. You didn't have much say in what went on, I actively chose to take what in hindsight was a pretty poor course of action."   
"Hindsight's always 20/20. Order in and explain what's been happening Downstairs?" Aziraphale thought for a moment, deciding on an Indian restaurant that they both liked (which really meant that he liked it and Crowley could be convinced to eat a few mouthfuls whenever they went, so it was about as close as they'd get to a joint favourite restaurant) and used a little miracle to convince them that they did do deliveries and they could definitely deliver to Mayfair. It didn't take long, Crowley was just finishing with his plants as Aziraphale collected the delivery, leaving a generous tip for the inconvenience. Once they'd settled down, Aziraphale began to explain himself, starting with the letter from Beelzebub.   
"I could hardly refuse when it seemed like they were on our side so I went to this meeting with them and Gabriel, which was an absolute shambles, entirely unproductive. If I didn't know better I'd say they were both out to infuriate the other as much as possible rather than get anything done. I know Gabriel can be rather grating but honestly." Aziraphale rambled on whilst Crowley sat and listened intently, happy to let him take whatever tangents he wanted because 90% of them were him bitching about Beelzebub and Gabriel and it was brilliant. (Though he was incredibly disappointed he'd missed Beelzebub kicking Gabriel's chair out from under him, Aziraphale made it sound hilarious.) Eventually he covered going to other meetings with Beelzebub to find out how their Hell takeover was going and to try and arrange some kind of truce without Gabriel v Beelzebub round 10,000, or whatever they were on now. (They both thought it was at least that just dealing with this debacle with Crowley's memories. If they were going from the Fall neither Crowley or Aziraphale were convinced there was any possible way of keeping track of such large numbers) That bit interested Crowley, him butting in with questions and trying to piece together what he could from the information given to him.   
"You know it sounds kind of like Beelz has their hands full with Downstairs. Maybe Luci did more than any of us realised." Aziraphale had no idea if that was good or not but if they were busy at least they weren't interfering with his and Crowley's lives. Since Crowley had managed to sort an agreement with Upstairs, and Beelzebub was apparently too busy to bother them much, Aziraphale did hope it meant they'd get a breather.   
"Hm, maybe. I think if it were between us and getting Downstairs to behave I'd leave us to it too." Palming his mostly untouched food off onto Aziraphale, Crowley stretched and tied his hair back. "Either way, it's nice to know we got one side off our backs."   
"It is. How did you even manage that? I never noticed a thing."   
"I uh… Might have gone Upstairs to ask if Michael or Gabriel knew where you were. Michael said you send a lot of accidental prayers so I figured it would be a good place to start. You know what it's like trying to find someone who isn't on Earth, it would have taken me ages otherwise and considering the mess we were in I wasn't sure I had the time, just that I couldn't sense you like I normally could." Crowley shrugged, trying to play it nonchalant but it only made Aziraphale feel guiltier for worrying him, knowing exactly how scary it was when you couldn't find someone after his stint Upstairs on a hunt for Crowley. "Anyway whilst I was up there I got talking to Uriel and Michael and things got sorted. It's no big" Aziraphale frowned, not convinced it had been that easy but was used to Crowley underplaying things he did as nothing of importance.   
"I'm glad you got to see your siblings, you haven't seen Uriel since getting your memories back right? Oh wait, are you comfortable referring to the other Archangels as family? You haven't really said much about the whole Raphael thing other than not wanting to use that name again."   
"Huh? It's pretty strange but I don't mind. I think it would feel more wrong not to?.... The Raphael and Crowley balance is going to take some getting used to but I think I can get behind talking to my siblings again, other than Luci they were all pretty solid. Even Gabriel with his unintentionally obnoxious ways, though I'm not convinced he still is. He's on thin fucking ice" Crowley paused to mull it over, not prepared to forgive Gabriel's past transgressions (the top of the list being his behaviour at Aziraphale's 'trial') but also considering his past actions wondering if it was worth giving him some kind of chance. He did seem to be trying, even if he still couldn't read a room for shit or work out how to engage his brain to mouth filter.   
"Well I'm glad. You deserved some good to come from all this." Aziraphale didn't think his comment deserved the snort of amusement he got for it but Crowley did seem to have the strangest sense of humour sometimes.  
"If you say so. Think I'll wait and see what happens with Hell before I decide if it was worth it though."


	14. Trip to Tadfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ineffable duo turn to Anathema for help and almost get a decent answer

Snakes, Aziraphale decided, are the strangest creatures. He watched Crowley stood there half asleep with his tongue out looking perplexed for a good couple of minutes before remembering Crowley's explanation about smelling better that way. It didn't make it any less ridiculous seeing a fully grown being doing what was essentially the human equivalent of a blep but he wasn't about to interfere. Not until he saw Crowley pale and dash into the bathroom with a muttered curse. Concerned, he poked his head in to find Crowley throwing his staff into the tub and turning the water on. Ah, they'd both forgotten about that and with Crowley's better sense of smell the blood must have become rather disgusting.   
"Do you need a hand with that dear?" Miracling a bottle of someone knows what to hand, Crowley shook his head and set to work cleaning up. He didn't dismiss him though so Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bath. "I've just thought dear, if you're able to handle that without getting burned do you think you're immune to holy weapons now?"   
"Huh, hadn't even thought about that. Though now I'm concerned hellfire might hurt. Maybe I should work out if I'm more occult or ethereal now." Agreeing, Aziraphale summoned some books to see if anything he had on beings like themselves would be of help. A particular chapter gave him an idea and he excitedly turned to Crowley, showing him the page even if he wasn't sure he'd be able to read this particular font.   
"Do you think we could ask Anathema? I imagine her knack for reading auras could give us some insight." Crowley pouted, not happy with the idea of getting humans involved before realising it was a relatively safe way to let her help, and she had been insistent she was going to. Might as well extend the offer to do something like this before she managed to get into something crazy. (He couldn't say he didn't admire her tenacity, just less so when it involved him)   
"Could do, chuck us my phone?" Aziraphale obliged, calling Anathema and putting her on speakerphone since Crowley had his hands full of wet staff he was still scrubbing at. (He might have used a miracle rather than ask for instructions but Crowley's phone was used to strange things happening to it and behaved as normal much to Aziraphale's relief) Aziraphale was impressed how quickly she answered, chuckling when the first thing she said was a dig about Crowley being awake at a reasonable hour for once.   
"Don't you read me as soon as you answer the phone Ana, I'm wounded." They chatted briefly, catching up before Anathema asked what it was he wanted, sounding absolutely delighted when he explained and agreeing right away.   
"Like I would pass up the chance to study your aura. The glimpse I got at the air-base was the weirdest thing I've ever seen."  
"Again Ana, wounded. How could you?" Aziraphale watched fondly as Crowley chatted, arranging a visit to Tadfield later that day to see her and promising to bring her some specific witchcraft bits as thanks. Once they were done Aziraphale hung up for him whilst Crowley propped the staff up to dry and washed his hands, asking if he fancied a trip to get said bits. Curious, having never heard of some of the things Anathema had asked for, he agreed. A decision he wasn't sure was the right one when he walked into the store with Crowley. He couldn't have been more out of place or completely baffled he tried, and he'd given it some pretty impressive attempts over the years. He knew the Demon still dabbled in witchcraft occasionally and generally kept up to date with whatever the humans were doing with it out of curiosity, but Aziraphale hadn't been aware it had gotten quite so varied since the last time he'd been in the company of witches. (Crowley and Miss Device excluded of course) He wasn't even sure if some of the more unusual things here even had any use other than for pomp and ceremony but Crowley assured him that once you dug through the bits aimed at people just into the witchy aesthetic there was some really good stuff. Taking his word for it Aziraphale let him rummage, making a beeline for the books, only moving when Crowley came to collect him after making his purchase, with what looked like considerably more than Anathema had asked for.   
"Don't you have the first edition of that one somewhere angel?"   
"I believe so, I'm just not sure where. It's been a few centuries since I did an inventory so it might be a bit buried. Was that everything you needed?" Nodding, Crowley led the way to the Bentley, holding the door for him. The drive to Tadfield was mostly peaceful, Aziraphale curiously rifling through the stash from the store and asking questions about uses for things he didn't recognise. Crowley seemed happy to have something to talk about other than their ex employers and gladly filled him in, telling him about all sorts of different uses and tricks for each item. By the time they got there Aziraphale had realised that even without his miraculous powers Crowley was still probably capable of all sorts and should be feared. (Not that he did fear him but he imagined it was probably wisest for some humans, a lot of Hell, and a significant chunk of Upstairs to do so.) Interestingly when they got there Crowley fished a couple of items from the bag and shoved them in the Bentley glove box before knocking at Anathema's door. Anathema grinned when she saw who it was, inviting them in before pausing, looking up at the horseshoe above the door which had bothered Crowley last time they'd both visited. Following her gaze Crowley seemed just as surprised to find it still there, admitting that he thought she'd taken it down because he hadn't felt anything.   
"Score one for being more ethereal I suppose. Thank you for agreeing to see us Miss Device."   
"I could hardly turn a request like this down" Accepting the bag, she rummaged through en route to the kitchen, thanking them and pulling out a couple of bundles of herbs to prepare. "Tea?" Accepting, Aziraphale followed her to the kitchen, frowning at Crowley for sitting on her kitchen counter whilst she worked and sitting at the table like a more reasonable person. Mug of tea in hand and one presented to Aziraphale (a few herbs thrown into hers to help her vision, Aziraphale's a plain breakfast tea) she launched into more questions, curious about what was going on for them to ask about Crowley's aura.   
"Long story short we don't know if I'm still a demon or not so thought maybe you could see something we couldn't?... Maybe it being so 'weird' before was down to all of this rubbish as well." Anathema thought for a moment, looking between his and Aziraphale's auras, and trying to recall the other angelic and demonic auras she'd seen at the air base.   
"You know I think you might be onto something there, before it was strange because it was like you had a ton of colours slapped on top of each other and it was hard to make anything out… But now it seems clearer? Or more like I'd expect when I'm looking at a single aura anyway, before it was more like a mismatch of multiple ones?" Baffled by this information Aziraphale asked her to explain more, unsure how anyone's aura could read so chaotically. Not knowing how else to explain, Anathema grabbed a pad and some coloured pens, drawing a few stick figures, giving one an angelic aura, one a demonic aura, one Crowley's previous aura and one his current one, explaining as she drew. Crowley squinted at the two that were meant to be him, understanding why she'd been confused by his aura when they'd first met, but not sure how it went from to his current one. (He knew it was to do with his memories and the miracles etcetera but he couldn't work out what it meant specifically.) Aziraphale seemed just as thrown, looking between them all and trying to work out a pattern. Anathema squinted between Aziraphale and Crowley's auras again, before shrugging and unhelpfully pointing out that this might not even be a good way to gauge where Crowley was on the angel/demon scale anyway.   
"Don't suppose you have any better ideas then?" Shaking her head, she admitted she couldn't think of anything that would be safe, or if she even knew that it was possible.   
"My only suggestion would be to try something that would affect angels and demons differently and see what reaction you have?... Is there even anything like that?" Unsure, Aziraphale looked to Crowley, hoping he'd know something. Unfortunately Crowley looked just as flummoxed as he felt.   
"All I can think of is summoning? Aren't the sigils different for angel and Demon circles? We could try both and see what one I get stuck in, and there's never normally anyone other than us from either side about so it's not like we'll summon someone else by accident." Thinking over the symbols and summoning circles for each kind of summoning Aziraphale agreed that it could work, unless somehow both circles summoned him, in which case it would just be a waste of time.   
"Well, there's no time like the present. Let me grab some chalk and we can give it a go." Whilst she was finding said chalk Aziraphale and Crowley quickly worked out which sigils to alter in each circle to make this easier and faster for them all. Mostly it just meant removing the limiters on the summonee's powers and mobility, and attempting to adjust them to specifically summon only Crowley. That did cause a problem because they weren't sure if they should use his demonic or heavenly sigil, which could potentially render this entire exercise useless. Undecided they went with neither and asked Anathema's opinion when she returned. Since none of them could come up with a clear decision either way they settled for just ensuring the summons worked for beings that were currently on earth only rather than risk getting someone from either side appear. At Anathema's request Aziraphale moved the table out of the way to give her room to draw out both summoning circles with Crowley's guidance on the parts they had altered. Newt came down took one look at what was going on and decided against asking, instead striking up a conversation with Crowley whilst Anathema and Aziraphale went over the incantations she'd need. Busy winding up Newt Crowley didn't even notice they'd begun, the summoning startling him so much he changed to a snake and straight up slithered over Newt to bolt for the door in an attempt to escape, loudly hissing. Newt had understandably screamed seeing a giant snake coming at him and promptly dove out of the way, ending up on the floor. Anathema was almost on the floor too laughing at the absolute ridiculousness of it all, wheezing as she asked Newt if he was okay. Aziraphale had only just managed not to end up in a similar state, catching Crowley and scooping him into his arms before he could slither off any further. Realising who had him after a brief moment of wriggling and loud panic, the hissing calmed and Crowley draped himself over Aziraphale, looping himself around his arms.   
"Well you're not in the summoning circle, but I don't think I've ever seen one cause you to change forms." Crowley huffed and turned his head away, refusing to acknowledge how dramatic his reaction had been. Secretly Aziraphale was delighted to get to see Crowley as a Serpent again, gently tracing over his scales, even if he was concerned about the sudden change. Once Newt got over the shock he hesitantly came over, asking if he could pet him. Not much of a talker in this form Crowley settled for shifting so his head was in Newt's hand, listening to him ramble about how cool he was once he'd got over the initial fear that he was about to be taken out by a massive snake launching itself in his direction. Sheepishly Crowley apologised for that, watching Anathema suspiciously, recognising that face. She had questions and she was not about to keep them to herself. Aziraphale beat her to it however, shifting his grip on Crowley to stop him slithering away.   
"As much as Crowley's Serpent form is endearing don't we think we should be asking why he's in it?" Sighing louder than any snake should be able to, Crowley changed back, now draped over Aziraphale's arms in his human form and making no attempt to move. Newt however did, withdrawing his hand and moving back, thinking it would be rather awkward to continue stroking some man shaped beings face whilst he was in the arms of a similarly shaped being that he was fairly sure was his equivalent of a partner, or whatever their kind had. Crowley seemed entirely unfazed by any of it, watching him as he retreated and shrugging. (At this point he was more curious why humans always felt the need to treat him like a regular snake more than he was bothered by the way they attempted to pet him and Newt had been polite enough to ask at least)   
"It felt wrong and I had to get away from it, what circle even was that?" Flippant as his answer was everyone could tell there had been more to it than that but no one had the courage to press him on it when he was still so clearly shaken by it.   
"The Demon one, you've never had this reaction to it before. Did you still want to try the Heavenly summons?"   
"Go for it, we might as well rule it out." At that Crowley did move, going to look over both circles again. At his instruction Aziraphale used this one, going with the logic that he could hardly summon himself so it didn't pose any risk of both of them getting summoned. (They'd both heard too many horror stories about bits accidentally being switched when multiple beings were called to the same summoning circle and didn't much fancy risking it.) Considering the demonic summons had failed Aziraphale had been fully expecting the heavenly one to work, seeming just as surprised as Crowley when it didn't work either. Expecting it this time, Crowley had managed to not snake out but it hadn't been any more pleasant than the previous attempt. For some reason it had never really occurred to anyone that neither summons would work, baffling them all.   
"Huh, so does this mean you're not demonic or angelic enough for either summon to work?" Everyone paused to look at Newt and consider his question, before Crowley dejectedly slumped at the table, nodding.   
"I think so, neither pull was strong enough to actually work as a summons. It was just…" He trailed off, deciding against trying to explain and instead just turned to Aziraphale and Anathema. "Either of you have any more ideas? I'm out"   
"Nothing, but I can look into it? There's got to be something somewhere"  
"About what? Is it dangerous? Can I join in?" Adam had his face pressed up against the window, looking excited whilst the rest of the Them stood behind him peering in too.   
"Me, maybe, and no. What are you lot doing?"   
"We saw your car and came to say hello. Are you sure I can't join in?"   
"Yup. Now get out of Ana's flowers you little terror" Rather than let them in whilst there were still summoning circles on the floor Crowley decided to go outside to join them, Aziraphale making quick work of anything that the Them could question with a snap of his fingers as soon as they were distracted away from the window. Newt blinked at the now clean floor, quickly getting out of the way when Aziraphale moved the table back, not entirely sure how to feel about what looked like a soft librarian just lifting a solid wood table with ease. With Crowley distracted by the kids Anathema took the chance to question Aziraphale, concerned for them both.   
"How are you both holding up? I've never seen Crowley so on edge and no offence but you don't seem much better." Weakly smiling, Aziraphale assured her they were fine, catching her and Newt up on their situation. As was usually the case with Crowley it seemed he'd been roped into whatever the children were up to and Aziraphale was quite enjoying the chance to talk to fresh ears as it were.   
"I mean with Lucifer dealt with and Heaven appeased we are in a much better situation. We wouldn't have come to Tadfield otherwise, we wouldn't want to bring trouble to you." Newt offered him biscuits, munching one himself and thinking.   
"Now your biggest issue is working out what's going on with Crowley right? How come?" Aziraphale gladly accepted, picking at one whilst he explained.   
"Mostly it's so we know what precautions to take when dealing with our former sides. I mean there are other reasons but I don't know if you know enough about us as beings to understand them." Newt knew he certainly didn't know enough so he went with it, Anathema about to question further but was stopped by Adam bursting in, followed by Crowley busy wrangling the other Them, looking exasperated.   
"You are all absolutely terrible" If he didn't sound so affectionate Aziraphale would have been worried, watching as Crowley discreetly miracled up a cloth and wiped off the worst of the mud that covered them all. The kids clearly felt the same, grinning and not looking sorry at all, Adam immediately turning to Anathema and Newt once Crowley released him. If Newt and Anathema were surprised by Crowley being so good with the kids they didn't let it show, but Anathema was definitely going to ask how he got Wensleydale to hold still for his turn at being cleaned up as soon as she had the chance.   
"We've all got to go visit Mr Crowley and Mr Fell more okay guys? They're both old and dad says we have to spend as much time with old people as we can." Aziraphale had absolutely no response to that, not even when Crowley rolled his eyes hard enough to be noticeable even with the glasses.   
"All I said is I was older than you first guessed. How old have you decided we are now?" Adam looked between them both and decided against answering because he'd been told telling people you thought they were old was rude, instead badgering Newt until he agreed they could go visit more. Once the kids had all dashed off, remembering they had dinner at Pepper's to get to Crowley immediately used a miracle to clean himself up, slumping next to Aziraphale with a huff.   
"They've decided we're at least 'dad age' whatever that means. Should we be offended?"   
"Dearest we're over 6000 years old, I'm sure whatever our perceived age is is flattering in comparison" Unconvinced, Crowley got his phone out to use his front camera as a mirror, poking at his face and wondering if it was time for a change. "Oh do stop that, you don't need to change anything. Anyway don't we have more important worries right now?" Crowley huffed but agreed, putting his phone away again. Secretly Newt kind of wished he'd let him do it, just out of curiosity to see what he could do. (A bit redundant since altering your corporation's appearance a bit was considerably easier than shifting forms entirely but the idea still fascinated Newt)  
"I still have no idea what to do. At this point I'm tempted to just get hold of some hellfire and holy water. Fuck it"   
"Absolutely not, don't be so ridiculous" Anathema and Newt looked shocked at Aziraphale's tone as he shot Crowley down right away, glaring at him for daring to suggest something so dangerous. Crowley just waved it off, telling him not to be so dramatic.   
"We know I can hold holy objects now and I'm still cursed so I don't think it's that big a risk. Hey Specs is there a church around here?" At the look Aziraphale was giving him Newt clammed up, shaking his head. Recognising the lie, Crowley grinned and looped his arm through Aziraphale's, ignoring the angel's clear disapproval. "Fancy a stroll down the aisle again angel? Might be nicer without the imminent bombing" As much as she wanted to ask she'd already learned that whenever she questioned their past it was usually an absolutely insane story of them doing things they were most likely not meant to be doing, at times when they were most likely not meant to be where they were, and she didn't want to distract everyone.   
"If you burn yourself again I am not helping" Even as he said it he smiled at Crowley, all of them knowing it was a barefaced lie. Once they got directions to the nearest church they said their goodbyes, deciding to walk since it wasn't too far. As they got closer Aziraphale kept an eye out for any discomfort from Crowley, remembering how he'd been burned last time he ventured into a church grounds. Pushing open the door Crowley braced himself, but found it wasn't anywhere near as bad as he'd been expecting. It was uncomfortable but compared to last time and the summons earlier it was practically nothing so he took the chance to look around, awed. Like many small town's churches it wasn't as ostentatious as the giant grandiose things you'd find in cities and Crowley kind of loved it, dragging Aziraphale through the pews to look at the altar.   
"Are you sure you're alright being in here dear?" Aziraphale clutched his hand, full of concern for Crowley and hope that they wouldn't find the font.   
"I mean it's still uncomfortable and I feel like I definitely shouldn't be here…but it doesn't hurt much? Not enough to put me off anyway" Sitting on the altar and making sure to put space between them, Crowley attempted to summon hellfire into his hands, blinking in surprise when it worked and wasn't much different from how it normally felt. As soon as Aziraphale made a move to approach him he dismissed it back to Hell, not wanting to take any chances around the angel. "It feels the same as the staff does. I reckon if I held either for long enough it might hurt but short term it's just kind of… Tingly?" Both of them were even more confused at this latest discovery, Aziraphale sitting next to Crowley on the altar.   
"So you're not heavenly or hellish enough to be summoned but you still have enough of each side to be able to use their weapons?... I don't know if this says more about you or the summoning rules? Should we just assume you're an even split between each side for now?" Throwing himself back to lie dramatically over the altar with his arm over his eyes, Crowley groaned.   
"Might as well. At least we've worked out this much, even if I do have more questions now."  
"We got the important bit solved anyway, I must say it's really put my mind at ease." Glad to know that Crowley wasn't about to be discorporated so easily by either side he gently poked his nose. "How about we gloss over the rest of your dramatics and go to one of those awful bars you like? See if it'll perk you up after those summons today." Moving his arm off his face, Crowley huffed at him for booping his nose, considering it.   
"I'm feeling a rooftop bar in East somewhere….You're not going to try and turn this into some talk about your feelings thing are you?"   
"I wouldn't dream of it dear boy" lied Aziraphale, helping him to his feet.


	15. It's showtime angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chat and a trial

Crowley hadn't trusted a word Aziraphale had said about not prying into his feelings on the matter but in his defense he hadn't dived right in as soon as they settled in a booth, drinks in hand. He'd waited a whole five minutes which for him was probably some kind of record, and going by his pleased face he knew it too. Didn't make it any more acceptable in Crowley's books but he ordered more drinks and went with it.   
"Go on then, what is it?"   
"Are you okay my dear? I was terribly worried when you suddenly switched forms and tried to leave today" Embarrassed, Crowley flushed and pointedly looked away, waving it off with an excuse about just being dramatic. "You are always dramatic dearest but that wasn't your usual theatrics" (Especially since Crowley was always most dramatic about minor inconveniences rather than genuine concerns. Those he swept under the rug and did his best to ignore) Not buying it at all Aziraphale kept prodding until Crowley caved, downing his drink.   
"It's easier to get away from people as a snake, harder to grab. Was just reflex you know?" The look Aziraphale was giving him suggested that no, he didn't know, and that he'd just unintentionally given him a lot more to ask about. Specifically about why he knew that his Serpent form was harder to grab or why he had those kind of reflexes. Quickly trying to backtrack Crowley waved his hands and continued.   
"Well you know, everyone does dumb things when they're caught off guard. Especially by weird failed summonings. What's a little shape-shifting when you're surprised?"   
"Well, considering I don't think I've ever seen that reaction from you even when you've been plenty surprised I'd say it's actually rather concerning" Using a miracle to make sure no one paid them any attention, Aziraphale carefully leant over the table, taking Crowley's hands in his. "Crowley I'm worried for you my dear. Ever since all of this started you've been getting worse, what have you remembered that has you so shaken up?"   
Some years ago, long before everything had kicked off Aziraphale had already had a similar conversation with Crowley about his skittish behaviour, and whilst Crowley had glossed over a lot of it Aziraphale had understood that being paranoid and over cautious about everything was probably the only reason Crowley had survived as long as he had in Hell. It had broken his heart then and the look that briefly flicked across Crowley's face now was breaking it again. Crowley frowned, unsure how to explain anything without upsetting the angel or prompting more questions, but knowing he wouldn't get away with not telling him anything at all.   
"Lucifer. Upstairs he was still uh… Aggressive? Manipulative? Straight up out to fuck me over? I don't know" Looking for a distraction, Crowley ordered over more drinks, not looking at Aziraphale for fear of his reaction. It took more prompting from Aziraphale to get any kind of specifics but once he got Crowley talking it was harder to listen to than he'd expected, the grip on his hands as much for himself as it was to comfort his friend. Like their previous conversation Crowley brushed over a lot of the details but he'd said enough to paint quite the picture for Aziraphale, the angel half tempted to climb over the table to comfort him. It seemed Hell as a whole had been a rather horrible experience, but Lucifer had taken it to the next level, singling out Crowley at every chance he got to make his life miserable even before the Fall and tailoring his abuse to pick at Crowley's insecurities whilst Hell was just a constant low level threat of impersonal violence. An absolute delight in comparison Crowley had said and Aziraphale didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at his casual attitude whilst talking about years of abuse at the hands of Lucifer and his demons. As blasé as he was trying to come across, talking about everything was taking a lot out of Crowley and Aziraphale could tell, watching him get more tense and nervous the more he spoke. If he thought it would have helped Crowley in any way to get these things off his chest he would have encouraged him to keep going but it was clear it was about time to stop before the poor being had enough.   
"Oh my darling boy, I'd suspected as much but been hoping terribly that I was wrong." Crowley looked back to him to respond, fussing when he realised the angel was probably one flippant comment from him away from crying out of sheer frustration at him and the way he was handling the situation. Aziraphale brushed aside his concerns, hesitating for a moment before gently stroking his cheek and Crowley could feel a miracle and a sense of calm washing over him. (Aziraphale had never dared try this before when they'd thought Crowley was a proper demon, unsure what a miracle would have done to him, but now he thought it was the least he could do for the being before him) Before he could ask what he'd done Aziraphale apologised, withdrawing his hand and nervously fidgeting, unsure if he'd crossed some line. "Sorry if I overstepped, I just thought you could use a little peace. Even if it is only a temporary miracle" He looked genuinely pained he couldn't do more for him and Crowley couldn't bring himself to be mad at the unannounced miracle use once he'd got over his initial shock.   
"Uh no, I uh… Thanks angel. It's uh…" Crowley trailed off, not sure how to explain how thankful he was for the break from his own head but Aziraphale beamed at him anyway, having had enough experience with Crowley's inability to form coherent sentences sometimes to understand the general gist of what he'd meant. He was mid way through assuring him that it had been nothing when he noticed the staff giving them pointed looks whilst they tidied the booths around them, clearly waiting for them to leave. Apparently their little chat had gone on for longer than either of them had realised, the sky outside now pitch black and the bar around them empty. Crowley quickly settled up and made sure to leave a generous tip before following Aziraphale out to let the staff finish up their shift. Even after the miracle Aziraphale was still concerned, knowing it probably wouldn't last long enough for either of their liking, sticking close to Crowley. If there hadn't been humans around he probably would have had his wings out to shield the poor snake, feeling incredibly protective of him. (Unbeknownst to either of them they were doing exactly that where they were tucked away, even if realistically it wasn't much use. If Aziraphale had known he probably would have been mortified so it was probably for the best that they were oblivious) Crowley had noticed, and even though he always teased him for being such a worrier and so overprotective he was still concerned about the angel's behaviour.   
"Angel I can practically hear you worrying, what's wrong?" Aziraphale spun to face him, flabbergasted and absolutely appalled that Crowley didn't think he'd be worrying after that conversation.   
"After everything you've just said you're asking me what's wrong?" He only realised he'd raised his voice when Crowley flinched back from him slightly, clearly startled at his reaction and immediately apologising for upsetting him. "What no dear you didn't do anything, I-" Aziraphale cut himself off, feeling incredibly guilty for rounding on Crowley like that when they had literally just been talking about the kind of things that usually happened when anyone did that to him. Aziraphale had often questioned Crowley's nervous reactions to raised voices or quick movements around him, especially when he was stressed, and now he understood why he didn't know what to do. There was a moment of awkward silence where Crowley realised what he'd just done, looking embarrassed and grabbing Aziraphale's hand, practically dragging him to the Bentley. Realistically he knew Aziraphale was probably about as much of a threat to him as a wet flannel but he still had a moment of panic and he hated it, especially because Aziraphale had noticed this time. On the incredibly rare occasion Aziraphale had ever done anything to scare him before he was pretty confident he'd managed to play it off, but now the angel was aware it would probably be much harder and he wasn't sure if he could handle the guilt. He didn't even have to look at him to know Aziraphale was doing that sad face that meant he was beating himself up for something he shouldn't be, firmly telling him as much and asking him to stop it.   
"You didn't do anything angel so stop fussing and get in the car. It's not your fault I have some dumb pavlovian response to people talking up" Aziraphale very much looked like he was not going to stop fussing but he did at least get in the car and manage to stop making that face so it was almost a win even if he didn't stop talking.   
"Well it's hardly your fault either so I wouldn't call it dumb. You're a very smart snake, I don't think you can do dumb."   
"Yeah, so smart I got trained into reacting like some quack's pet dog and still shit myself even when I know I'm safe. Nothing dumb about that at all" Had Aziraphale been driving he'd have slammed on the brakes at that, fully ready to argue his case with Crowley's full attention, but he didn't think him interfering with the Bentley would be allowed, or even anywhere near acceptable.   
"We both know-"   
"-we'll be arguing all evening about this?" Aziraphale huffed, crossing his arms and staring out the window instead.   
"You're so stubborn, why can't you use that energy to be nicer to yourself?"   
"I'm not particularly high on my list of priorities." Considering it wasn't a long drive, especially with Crowley's driving and less traffic than usual because of the time, it was rather impressive that the pair of them had wound each other up as much as they had by the time they'd got to the bookshop, Crowley impatiently waiting for him to get out so he could leave. Sensing this Aziraphale paused, hesitantly asking if he could redo the miracle for him since it was probably already wearing off, and tried not to be too hurt at Crowley's blunt rejection of the idea.  
"If you don't want another miracle don't you fancy joining me at least dear?" Aziraphale paused part way through closing the Bentley door behind him when he realised Crowley wasn't making any move to follow him, worried he'd bothered the Serpent more than he'd realised. Crowley had actually been planning to go hide at his for a bit but he could hardly refuse the angel when he sounded so hurt, even if he was feeling a bit overwhelmed and could use some space, so he followed him and plonked himself on the couch like usual. Following their usual post drinking routine Aziraphale miracled them up a drink each (Crowley's coffee actually the same as he'd get from the coffee shop they'd met Gabriel and Michael in what felt like months ago now, and his tea was the same blend he'd get at the Ritz) and sat himself down in his usual armchair, looking Crowley over. In an attempt to change the subject and just for something to say, he blurted the first thought that came to mind, knowing that if nothing else it would at least distract Crowley from his sulking for a little bit.   
"You know I'd forgotten your scales matched your wings. I don't think I've seen you in that form since before the Ark."   
"What, that they're both black?" To say Crowley was confused would be an understatement, wondering what on earth Aziraphale meant. Surely it hadn't been long enough that Aziraphale had forgotten that he was a bloody great black and red snake, and he'd only seen his wings recently so that can't have slipped his mind.   
"No no, they're both iridescent. I'm not actually sure either are black?… Anyway I must ask, is there a reason you rarely use that shape? It really is quite magnificent, I mean even Newt was rather taken with it and I think he'd feared for his life when he first saw you change."   
"Oh uh...I guess not? It's more of a convenience thing. Having opposable thumbs is an absolute game changer most of the time" Crowley still wasn't entirely sure what Aziraphale was going on about, was this some strange way of asking him to change forms or distract him? When he questioned it Aziraphale got quite flustered, protesting perhaps a little too hard whilst Crowley finished his coffee. Definitely meant as a distraction then, though it might actually be a pretty good idea too. It was much harder to stay stressed as a snake when you could be your own comfort blanket.   
"Oh I didn't mean to come across pushy. It's just you said that you find it safer and all things considered I thought you'd prefer it. I wouldn't want you to feel like you had to keep your human appearance up around me if it was more comfortable for you to change" Crowley thought about it for a moment before deciding actually yeah why not, changing forms and curling up on himself, getting comfy with a content hiss. Knowing that Aziraphale had never expected much by way of communication from him in this form was a huge relief for Crowley too, the pressure of talking more taken away for now. Absently he wondered why he hadn't thought of this before rather than only changing forms when fight or flight instincts took over, but he was very distracted by the way Aziraphale had leant over and was stroking his scales and didn't really come to a conclusion. The angel hadn't been expecting Crowley to actually change but he seemed a little calmer in this form and he couldn't help himself leaning over to gently pet him, absolutely enamoured by the way he'd poked his snout out from between his coils. Crowley had thrown a massive fit and sulked for almost a week the last time he'd called his snake behaviour cute though so he refrained from saying anything, no matter how much he wanted to pick him up and fuss and tuck him up somewhere warm and sunny. It was too early for any sun though so he settled for warming the shop a few degrees and deciding that if he stayed in that form the couch would miraculously be a good sun spot when it got light again.   
"Crowley dear I know you don't talk much in this form but I don't suppose you'd listen would you?" Warily Crowley extracted himself from his coils, shifting to watch Aziraphale as he nodded a little. Aziraphale smiled, gently stroking his cheeks and Crowley tried not to pout about even the angel feeling the need to treat him like one of those little pet snake breeds. (The fact that Aziraphale had warm hands and the affection was actually quite nice helped his efforts considerably) "Thank you dear. Feel free to hiss if I start rambling but I just wanted to apologise for startling you earlier. I was just so shocked that you thought any of what you'd said wasn't worth worrying about." Even as a snake Crowley was still incredibly expressive and Aziraphale wouldn't let him look so concerned for one second longer. "Don't give me that face dear, I didn't mean that it was your fault I shouted. You just seemed so accepting of what happened like it wasn't a big deal and that I should just ignore it and I couldn't stand the thought of Downstairs making you believe it was okay and-" Crowley cut him off with a soft hiss, slithering into his lap and wrapping himself around him, giving him a gentle squeeze for support. Aziraphale hadn't realised how much he'd needed it until Crowley settled, tucking his head into the crook of his neck and nuzzling him a little. Between them Aziraphale had always been the one to get emotional about things like this or really any blatant abuse of power whilst Crowley had been almost resigned to it just being a part of life and had always done his best to keep the angel away from it whilst sabotaging it best he could.   
"I know you don't care much for being told but you really are good my dear. I can't believe anyone would try to use it against you" Crowley managed the snake equivalent of a shrug (a kind of awkward slithering motion that somehow Aziraphale deciphered, though that was probably more down to him knowing what Crowley was like than understanding snake wiggles) and let Aziraphale ramble on, even if he was talking absolute nonsense about what a lovely creature he was. He disagreed of course but Aziraphale was incredibly warm and comfortable and that alone was enough to convince him to allow this kind of slander. That quickly changed when Aziraphale suddenly leapt to his feet, nearly dislodging him in the process and earning himself a loudly hissing Serpent for his troubles. One who quickly changed back to his man shaped form when he saw what had prompted the sudden move, picking up the letter on the desk and opening it to see what Hell wanted. It must have been delivered whilst they were out, neither of them having noticed a miracle delivering it since they'd got in, and Crowley was seriously hoping it hadn't been a time sensitive message. Turns out it was but they'd found the letter in time, Aziraphale snorting dismissively when he read it over Crowley's shoulder.   
"Oh… We're on trial Downstairs in a couple of hours, how lovely." Crowley went back over the letter trying to see if it had any useful information about who would be there or anything, sighing and just placing it on the side when there was nothing of use.   
"Isn't it? Guess we better get our act together" As much as he hated it Aziraphale had to agree, wondering if the trial was going to go similarly to last time and how they'd get out of it since swapping corporations probably wouldn't be much use to them this time around. Time seemed to fly by whilst they tried to organise themselves and come up with some kind of plan, the floor opening next to them much sooner than either of them would have liked.  
"Well, looks like it's showtime. Let's go angel" 

To both of their surprise the trial wasn't private, just about every Demon in Hell was clamouring to get a look and make their opinion of the pair known. Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure he knew what some of the more creative comments had meant but he didn't think they were ones he'd be asking Crowley to explain considering how annoyed he looked by them. Beelzebub didn't look particularly happy about their audience either, clearly having hoped to keep things quiet and get it over and done with. Crowley looked around once they were before them, tucking his glasses away.   
"What, no holy water this time? Shame, last time it worked really well to get rid of the stink from this shithole." Immediately the crowd died down remembering the last time the Serpent had been on trial, the demons near the front of the crowd shuffling back a little as though it would help if he decided to act up again. Crowley grinned at them with far too much fang, thanking someone that it had shut them up. (And by someone he thanked Aziraphale for going full ham during his trial and putting the fear of himself into them. He still wished he could have seen it because it sounded like an absolute masterpiece from start to finish)   
"Shut up Crowley, like we'd let you pull something like that again" Beelzebub sighed, rubbing their face and announcing the start of the trial for Lucifer's murder. Aziraphale was busy looking around trying to put faces to the names and information Crowley had given him before they came down. Hastur was a given, and he was fairly sure he'd worked out which one Dagon was, as well as most of the other demons around them, though they weren't as much of a concern according to the quick pre-trial debrief.  
"Yeah so I don't see anyone from Upstairs here. I thought there were rules about these things, having angels on trial down here." Apart from Beelzebub the demons looked at Crowley like he was insane. Beelzebub was instead giving him a look that clearly read shut the fuck up. Aziraphale and Crowley weren't sure what they'd done to already have Beelzebub so on edge, but it was pretty clear to them both that Beelzebub did not want them down here or speaking in front of other demons.   
"There are but we have it on good authority it only applies to non disgraced angels so don't assume having your ex-Principality about will help" Hastur was as aggressive as usual, sneering at Aziraphale, clearly still mad about their last encounter. Half of him was tempted to ask how Hastur's shoulder was but he didn't think it would be worth the hassle of a pissy Duke of Hell so Aziraphale just shrugged. The nonchalance wound Hastur up anyway which amused Crowley greatly, grinning as he wrapped his arm around Aziraphale's shoulders.   
"What a shame, right angel? If only one of us had stayed in touch with Upstairs." If they didn't think it would start a riot or give them away, Beelzebub could have leapt off their throne and throttled Crowley, giving him the kind of glare that made lesser demons shrivel away from them for fear they'd be discorporated. They'd rather been banking on Crowley keeping his big mouth shut and hopefully not having any more of an idea what was going on than he did last time, but going by how confident he seemed they were worried that wasn't the case. Even just that comment of his was enough to start curious murmurs from the crowd, and they knew they were essentially fucked if he was actually still a fully fledged Archangel. Dagon questioned what he meant, assuming the Serpent was up to his usual act of trying to talk his way out of things, and not wanting to give Crowley any more chances to risk their plans Beelzebub butted in.   
"Enough. Stop trying to start shit and let us get this over with." Beelzebub crossed their arms, staring the pair of them down and really hoping that they'd just answer the questions and get out as soon as possible. Crowley and his angel knew too much and Beelzebub wanted them Downstairs as little as possible. "Hastur, start the questioning." Aziraphale muttered something about this not being a particularly impartial court of law but it was ignored when Hastur spoke over him.   
"Did you traitors murder Lord Lucifer in cold blood and dispose of the body?"   
"It was actually self defense but we did throw his body into the Pits so close enough I guess." Crowley made a show of being incredibly bored by it all already whilst Aziraphale smiled cheerfully and added that it had unfortunately been a rather messy affair. The silence in the room was deafening, no one actually expecting such a confession. Even Beelzebub, who had seen the aftermath, still couldn't quite believe these two seemingly incompetent idiots had managed it and would confess it before all of Hell. After a moment panicked whispering started from the audience and Hastur quickly moved on, trying to keep order.   
"Were you working with Upstairs-"   
"Oh really. They were as surprised as you were that we did it. Hastur if you'd be so kind I think this would go a lot faster if we just had the questions. We'd both like to get this horrible business over and done with so we can leave." With the kind of fake cheer and smile that Gabriel would have been proud of, Aziraphale miracled the list of charges from Hastur's hand to his, looking over it. They had both been planning to be as obnoxious as possible so Hell would turf them out faster (a tried and tested technique of Crowley's that had worked wonders over the years) but Aziraphale had genuinely had enough of being Downstairs and being some kind of spectacle for the mass of demons, so decided to speed things along, going through the list. "Hmm…No… no, oh we did do this one. That next one was on me I'm afraid… yes to that one. No, no, but I think it was someone from Upstairs? That one was Crowley's plan, Crowley, me… Joint effort, and no." As he spoke he marked the list, Crowley curiously looking over his shoulder. They'd both decided to be truthful about the murder at least, because if nothing else it would make any vigilante demons wary of bothering them.   
"Nope, that one was me too. I forgot to tell you, Michael distracted me." Frowning at him Aziraphale amended the list and held it out for Dagon since she was Lord of the Files, and therefore who he assumed it would end up with anyway.   
"Could Michael confirm that if we asked?" Dagon took the list from him, scanning over what he had put and immediately handing it over to Beelzebub, deciding that dealing with these two was way out of her pay grade. Beelzebub couldn't blame her, if they'd had anyone above them they could palm these two off on right now they would have. But they'd given the pair instructions to burn the body so that was out of the question and instead they had to sit through this and hope the beings before them didn't fuck up their plans too much. Crowley thought for a moment and nodded, adding that Uriel had been there too if Michael was unavailable.   
"Why the fuck are you hanging around with Archangels all of a sudden snake? Decided ruining the apocalypse wasn't enough and trying to worm your way back Upstairs or something?"   
"Nah, I've visited a couple of times but I don't fancy going back full-time. Earth is much more fun you know? Heaven is a bit too stuffy for my liking these days, can't get a good drink anywhere."   
".... You've been Upstairs" Hastur looked disbelieving but after Crowley's holy water stunt during his trial he wasn't about to question the Serpent having more weird tricks up his sleeve and get himself discorporated. He still hurt from last time he'd underestimated the snake and his rogue angel, and considering what happened to Ligur and Lucifer he'd got away pretty lightly. Crowley looked at him, seeming confused that he'd questioned it and Aziraphale smiled a little, folding his hands in front of him and letting Crowley have his moment to mess with Hastur.   
"Well yeah, haven't you guys? Got to say the view is great now Earth is a bit busier."   
If the stakes hadn't been so high Aziraphale would have started laughing at the absolute shock written over every demon in the rooms face whilst Crowley just stood there casually like he hadn't just off handedly confessed to making a trip that would destroy a demon of his supposed rank. Crowley looked around and asked what the big deal was and Aziraphale only just managed to hold himself together and keep a neutral expression. Beelzebub had enough, growling at the pair of them to just get out already and got up, intending to herd the pair of them out themselves. They'd already said too much and this was going to be a nightmare to deal with so they needed to go before they made it worse. Apparently action from their Lord was all the crowd needed for commotion to start, loud protests and questions about what the fuck kind of demon Crowley was and what was going on. Before Crowley could even say anything and rile up the demons any more Beelzebub had a miracle in place to silence him, snarling at Hastur to get rid of the audience so they could deal with the trial in peace. During the commotion Beelzebub pulled them both aside to their office, removing the miracle on Crowley and aggressively demanding to know what the fuck they thought they were playing at.  
"We could ask you the same. What was this trial even for other than to waste all of our time?" Unimpressed with being dragged around Aziraphale brushed himself off, straightening his jacket, whilst Crowley just plonked himself on Beelzebub's desk and put his glasses back on.   
"Do you really think even in Hell there wouldn't be any kind of trial when the King gets murdered? This is to shut the masses up and make my life easier."  
"What, don't think they'll respect you if you don't do things properly? I think you'll have a bigger problem if they find out you've been hiding an Archangel in their midst and lying to them." Beelzebub stared down Crowley, trying to work out if he was bluffing or not. At this point he had centuries of lying to Downstairs under his belt and his act for his bosses was perfected so well that Beelzebub couldn't work out if it was just bravado at all.   
"You'd out yourself to Hell just like that? They'd try and tear you apart and you know it." They were sceptical, but the smirk they got from Crowley suggested that he definitely would, even if it was just to spite them.   
"Like they didn't try that anyway? Look, neither of us actually want any trouble, we just want to be left alone, so won't you please work with us here?" Beelzebub much preferred dealing with Aziraphale to Crowley since he was much less of a headache, so they turned to the angel and asked what he proposed they do. Surprised he was asked his opinion, Aziraphale wracked his brain for something mutually beneficial that Beelzebub might agree to.   
"From what I understand of Hell's justice system we'd usually be put to death for this? Tit for tat and all… Can't you say you sent us Upstairs for punishment? Lie about tossing us in the pits or something? It's not like you're not already lying to them all."  
"The Upstairs thing would be easy enough, though I'll go with whatever as long as it gets us out of Hell." Beelzebub looked unimpressed, not convinced it would be as easy as Crowley made out.   
"Yeah? What have you got an Archangel on speed dial to come get you or something?"   
"I could probably convince one of them to come get us easy. So far none of them seem to think much of me staying in touch with Hell. Do you have a preference on who I call?"   
"Whatever gets rid of you faster" Beelzebub hadn't actually expected him to do it, disbelieving he was suddenly on good terms with Upstairs even with his miraculous memory reappearance. The last thing they expected was Michael agreeing to come collect the pair from the courtroom with the necessary paperwork. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Beelzebub sent out an announcement that the trial was over and shoved them back into the courtroom where Michael was waiting, sat on Beelzebub's throne and passing said paperwork to Dagon. Dagon looked absolutely baffled that an Archangel had just appeared and started handing her things but was not about to get smart with them and get herself any more involved in the Serpent's mess. The other demons that remained watched in awed horror, clearly just as surprised as Dagon that the second the trial had been over Michael had appeared with a face like thunder.   
"I was expecting a more prompt handover." Snapping their fingers as they rose, thick chains wrapped around Aziraphale and Crowley's wrists. The chains were light and considerably less uncomfortable than they looked, but only Aziraphale and Crowley knew that, with the pair of them acting surprised at the sudden shackles. "Thank you for your cooperation Lord Beelzebub, my siblings and I will take it from here. These two will no longer be any trouble for you." With that Michael touched the chains, transporting them all to Crowley's flat, not that anyone Downstairs knew that, all staring at the spot where the traitors had just been before Beelzebub ordered them back to work. Back in the flat Crowley laughed as he slipped the chains off, thanking Michael. Aziraphale followed suit, miracling both sets of chains away and fixing his cuffs.   
"Agreed, thank you Michael it was most kind." Michael smiled, brushing it off.   
"It was a good idea. They'll probably assume you're both discorporated by now so try not to end up back down there and blow your own cover."  
"Trust me, we have no intention of returning. We're free agents again and it's going to stay that way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so that's the two ineffable fools freed again so she's done. Might fuck around and make a series with a few one shots to tie bits up, idk. Thanks for reading this whole non proof-read, dubiously written mess 😘😘


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